The Perils of Titan Living
by Saint H
Summary: Life as a teenage superhero isn’t all archnemesi and spandex riding up your crack. There’s laughs, love, friends, music, and a whole lot of down time. And explosions. Juicy, juicy explosions.
1. Guess Who's Back

Because everyone hates Author's Notes, I'll make this as brief as possible. For those of you that read it's predecessor, you could tell by the title that this is a sequel-fic. NOW WAIT! For those of you who are like, 'Shit, I didn't read the first one so I ain't gonna take the time to go thru all this.' Know that you really don't need to know anything about the last fic to appreciate this one save for a few key facts.

1) It takes place after the final season.

2) In this time Titans East have disband and all the Titans (honorary and otherwise) operate from the Main Tower and their own HQs if they have them.

3) The entirety of the fic before this was pretty much bent on getting Jericho and Raven together. Also, a bad guy named the Essence came along, got his ass kicked, no big deal. So if romance with Raven and a character other than Beast Boy or Robin makes you angry, you won't like this fic.

4) There are no OCs, and whenever they do crop up, they won't be Titans, or teens for that matter. So don't worry.

5) They're still not gay... they're bi. P

Enjoy.

* * *

Jericho takes the sharp curve at an easy 60 mph.

_SCRRRREEECH!_

A grin of joy melts across the blonde mute's face, hazel eyes flashing with excitement as opposed to the usual metahuman power. His left hand grips the black steering wheel with white knuckles, the right hand on the stick as he rockets thru the rolling hills lying outside the City.

Jericho's mouth opens wide in a mute scream that gives the illusion of being a lion's roar as the engine revs and sends its signature sound reverberating throughout the scene.

To his left the bay stretches out in it's vast blue expanse, salty mist floating up onto the road off the beach. The long blue meets the equally blue horizon at some unidentifiable point and becomes the cloudless sky. As if the sea goes out and then swoops up over the world like a vast hood of blue with one searing cosmic eye hanging overhead and watching as the Mustang climbs a strangely steep hill with relative ease. It reaches the top and catches air for a moment, rocketing along at breakneck pace. In the driver's seat Jericho gives a mute laugh of excitement.

With knowing eyes Jericho notices the road ahead goes straight before taking a sharp right turn away from the bottom of a cliff.

Jericho heads straight forward, not turning.

He closes the distance between the Mustang and the cliff, and goes off the road. The towhead's face sneers in defiance as he plays chicken with the wall of rock before him.

Forty yards.

The tires rumble and shudder from the rock and dirt.

Twenty yards.

Birds and small woodlyn creatures scamper out of the car's path.

Ten yards.

The swirling wind cause the driver's blonde curls to dance.

Five yards.

The mute's sneer melts into a worried frown, complete with a gulp.

No yards.

_WHIIIRHSSHH! VROOM!_

Just before car and cliff connect to ignite fiery death, the rock wall of the cliff inexplicably shoots up, revealing a metallic tunnel leading underground. As the Mustang drives down into the mysterious shaded depths, the rock wall slides back down as quickly as it had opened.

_WHIIIR-CHUNG!_

And all is silent.

'The Perils of Titan Living**'**

_Chapter One: Guess Who's Back  
_

"Is it a pony?!"

– Wally 'Kid Flash' West

A young woman stands silhouetted in front of the window that comprises the eastern wall of her room. The thick lavender curtains are pulled to the sides, filling the room with sunlight, the only illumination it ever receives. The bay and the fringes of the City can be seen, and escape into the world of reality is only ever a moment away.

She faces a bookshelf, one that stretches nearly the entire length of the wall opposite the huge window. It's tall, long, dusty, and filled to the brim with tome upon tome of text. The only part of the western wall that is not taken up by the shelf was the part nearest her bed, which is taken up by her closet. But the books, they are escape, portals into the minds of brilliant thinkers, into the impossible imaginings of other realities. Fantasy and terror and love and hate and all the most inner reaches of the human soul, an escape from reality.

The north side of her room holds her bed, a slightly roundish thing, with a swooping headstand that imitates her hood ever so slightly. Three large, soft blue pillows sitting neatly in a row, and purple silken sheets tucked in neatly. Its a soft, warm bed. One that is easy to fall asleep in, to loose yourself to the dreamworld. To fall into your own subconscious and discourse with your soul. An escape to an inner world all her own.

And finally to the southern side of her room is only one thing.

The door; a rectagonal, metal, heartless thing. The opening through which her inner sanctum is reachable, and through which the Tower and all its innumerable distractions are also accessible.

It is the least alegorically aesthetic of all things in her room, from the stuffed doll of the mindscape ravens to the white ceiling and the black floor it is the simplest.

It is her escape from herself and the thing that keeps her in duty.

It leads to her life, away from the timeless walls of her sanctuary.

And in all her years of fighting things too horrific to imagine, stepping out of her room was, in her opinion, the most heroic thing she'd ever done. And indeed she knows best.

But now she stands, facing her bookshelf, scanning it for something nameless, standing in a dress of dark black which parted at the hips, brazenly letting both legs be seen as an old, heavy and battered blue cloak wraps around her person, dull with dust from the astral plane.

She was Raven.

Suddenly, something sounds softly in her mind. Great paws padding at a door in her skull wanting to be let in. She feels a familiar warmth in her bosom, and inhales. The same breath comes out a moment later as words, "He's returned."

* * *

"No, but seriously, I'm like, sensitive to this kind of stuff!" Wally West, known in the superheroing business as the Kid Flash, fastest teen alive, jabbers on at rapid pace. 

"Truly?" Starfire asks, green eyes wide with enthrallment and trust as per her modus operandi.

Beast Boy merely rolls his eyes, "Whatever dude!"

"Seriously!" Wally whirls on the green one, "Which one of us has control over the vibration rate of his molecules? Me or you? Me! Exactly! I can vibrate thru walls for Hermes' sake!"

Beast Boy frowns with defiance, "That doesn't mean you can tell what's happening in other dimensions, it's all in your head!"

"Truthfully Beast Boy, his claim is not impossible," Starfire starts, "Every dimension vibrates at it's own different frequency in along the fifth dimension. If Wally is so sensitive to kinetic movement, vibration in particular, it might be that he could feel the very residual effects of moments in time in dimension with frequencies very near to our own which might be able to be processed by the more subconscious levels of his brain. Indeed possibly moments of near identical universes to our own, although seeing as how, like all things, the fifth dimension curves then the events he would feel would not necessarily be of a corresponding time, but perhaps in the future or even in the past."

The two jokesters stare at the crimson haired angel, dumbfounded.

Wally scratches his unmasked cheek, "Yea, what she said."

Beast Boy shakes his head, "Or you could just have a bad case of the shits, y'know, whatever works."

"You're just jealous because I know… _the FUTURE!"_ The speedster says in a pseudo-mysterious voice, wriggling his fingers to increase the effect.

"Dude, you don't know the future!" Beast Boy yells.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"You're going to say 'am not' next."

"Am not! Wha-_SHIT!"_

"HahaHA!" Wally cheers himself, pulling off a little dancing of joy.

Starfire claps her hands, "Truly amusing!"

Beast Boy crosses his arms as Wally saunters up to him, "Hey, don't feel bad BB, maybe I didn't know the future, maybe I just read your mind!"

"Dude," Beast Boy mumbles, "Superspeed is so versatile a power, its one hundred percent re-fucking-diculous."

Wally raises a reddish-brown brow, "So you admit I can both tell the future and read your mind?"

"Go blow a goat, I'M going to go somewhere where your idiocy won't outshine mine!"

"So upstaging you is another applicability of superspeed? I don't even want to begin to try and explain that one, it just might have to be retconned!"

Without responding the changeling morphs into a flea and bounds out of the Main Room, leaving Starfire and the fastest teen alive alone. The former still in a fit of girlish giggles.

"Hah, we got him good, huh Star."

"In-Hehehe! Ind-deed!" she manages between bursts of laughter and taking gulps of air.

The pair shares a moment of laughter, but the joyous noise is soon accompanied by the sound of bootsteps coming in from the garage elevator.

Starfire looks up expecting to see her boyfriend, the only boot-wearer present in the Tower other than herself, "Oh, Robin, you have so unfortunately been absent at the…" the alien angel's heavenly voice trails off.

His own laughter slowing, the fastest teen alive turns around to see someone he did not expect, for a moment even his mouth froze. There, simple in his white tee, jeans, and leather jacket. Mouth and hazel eyes smiling calmly surrounded by that tussled mane of hair, Jericho.

There is a moment of absolute silence.

…

The air turns warm.

"JERICHO!" Starfire squeals with joy unparalleled and rushes forward with superhuman speed, grasping the mute arrival with a bone crushing embrace. Once again: modus operandi.

"Well smack my butt and call me Susan." Wally mumbles, shaking his head clear as if trying to throw his mind back together from a great rattling.

Guessing at the suffocating effect of her hug, the Tamaranean releases Jericho from her embrace before his face could turn a shade of blue not usually found in nature.

"Jericho, you have return!" She chirps.

The towhead just grins with a slow nod, giving a look of 'obviously'.

"Hehehe! …OH!" the gasp pops in Starfire's throat as a look of divine felicity founts from her green eyes, "We must tell Raven!"

"_I already know."_ The light, throaty voice reverberates metaphysically throughout the room as the mysterious young woman in question melts down from the ceiling in a quiet fount of ebony energy, touching down softly in front of Jericho, nearly eye to eye, she only has to tilt her head back the slightest of degrees, and he doing the same, inverted.

"Hello, Joseph." She says in the same soft, whispy monotone.

He smiles broadly and snakes an arm around her back.

Starfire and Wally watch, silent and wide-eyed. There faces contort in comedic fashion by their childlike curiosity and trepidation.

Raven responds to the gesture with a small, small grin.

And then sends a crackling jolt of searing black thunder up Jericho's arm.

_JZZZTT!!_

Jericho is thrown back across the Main Room and into a wall. His smoking body leans on the wall, trying to get his air back when he sees three Raven's walking towards him that melt into one as his dizziness dissipates. He gives her puppy eyes in an attempt to stave off further punishment. Raven bends down to his level and, with a smirk, says, "At the risk of sounding cliche, that was for staying away so damn long, and for coming back you get…well, you'll find out later. Alone."

Wally, finally regaining his mouth, sneers ornerily, "Is it a candy bar?"

_JZT!_

"DAH!" Wally screams as a pulse of black energy sends him failing across the room.

"Normally I would be shocked by the amount of violence that has been linked with the arrival of one's significant other, but it _is_ you, Raven." Starfire observes, the tip of her finger resting on her lip in thought.

Ignoring the Tamaranean, Raven grabs Jericho's hands and helps him up.

This time Jericho snakes his arm around her back and is unpunished. Raven scoots in a little closer.

Wally, having picked himself up, chirps again, "Is it a pony?!"

_JZT!_

"DAH!"

Before another word is spoken the door leading to the hallway opens with a _whir_ and Beast Boy marches thru triumphantly, "OK Wally, if your superspeed makes you so damn omnipotent, what I'm I gonna say next?"

Wally, in the process of picking himself up again, looks at the green shape shifter blankly, points a hand at Jericho and drones, "Dude."

Beast Boy follows Wally's pointing and, upon seeing Jericho standing silently in his place by Raven impulsively utters, "Dude! … _SHIT!!"_

Wally keels over, nearly suffocating from laughter. Starfire is also thrown into a fit of giggles as Beast Boy rants a steady string of profanity.

With a fair brow raised in question, Jericho looks questioningly down to Raven. She meets the glance and shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe we should relocate to where there are less distractions."

Jericho does the only thing he can do: smile and nod as they turn and head for the elevator.

Beast Boy notices and, halting is thirty word long sentence of nothing but curse words, says, "Hey, where are you guys going, I haven't even gotten to talk to Jericho yet."

Everyone gives Beast Boy a look of annoyance or disbelief.

"...talk AT Jericho." the changeling corrects himself.

Raven pauses for but a moment, "I'm going to… show him the new additions to the pool."

"Oh."

They step into the elevator and the door closes.

_Whir._

…

…

"Wait a minute, there are no new additions to the poo- OOOooh right, make out scene."

Wally shakes his head, "Man, you're slow."

"Sit on it, Potsy."

* * *

With a lurch the elevator moves upward. 

Jericho turns to Raven and Raven turns to Jericho.

…

…

…

_Thud!_

Hormones take their course.

* * *

A sagacious songbird sits silently, perched on the Spanish shingles of a building downtown, his cape falling down over his red-breasted body, the dark exterior blending him with the shadows. 

Even in the daylight the Prince of Gotham fights from the night. It's in his blood as the Bat's Apprentice.

Robin sits on his haunches, peering down relentlessly, unmoving except for the occasional swivel of his head. Like a stone gargoyle he sits, the gaze from his marble-white eyemask piercing thru the window of the pawnshop below.

He sits, the leader of the Titans, hero to countless souls and inspiration to even more. The patron protector of the City, unnoticed by the bustling metropolis beneath.

Underneath him, down a few stories on earth, cars run, people stalk the sidewalks in packs, a living breathing plethora of individuals making up a whole population which stands as an entity all its own.

Friends laugh-People talk on cell phones-Dogs bark-Horns honk-Children play merrily-Lovers stroll down the sidewalks arm in arm-A woman yells at her lazy husband and can be heard from a nearby apartment complex-  
Life down on the ground, all witnessed by the Robin while his head is catching cloud dust. Eyemask peering, penetrating, inescapable, blazing in it's simplicity, frightening in its effectiveness.

An undetectable shift near the pawn shop's cash register that the distinctly human superhero couldn't possibly have noticed from his vantage point occurs, and like an ancient golem the cloudy gargoyle erupts from his stone slumber with a fluid sweep of his arm. His black cape slides back and the intense yellow underneath gives glorious shine.

In his green grip is a grappling hook, aimed at some ambiguous piece of city architecture, and it fires.

_POW!_

It hits, grips, and pulls tight. Robin's legs flex and he shoves off the roof into the open air above the City just as the robbers pull their guns.

People all around on earth look up and watch with awe and glee as their hero swoops down from Heaven like an avenging angel.

And all around Timothy Drake's dark head of hair, the wind rushes.

Confident, sure, and precise in his actions, he still holds on white knuckled to the grappling hook.

Holds on for dear life as his heart beats fast in his ribcage as if trying to escape, just like it had since the first time, just like it always would.

And the air howls about him as time stretches out long.

* * *

Three men pull handguns from underneath their jackets, "Put you hands in the air, this is a stick up!" 

Before anyone could even think to shriek or scream-

_TCHIINGSHH!_

The window explodes and a shower of broken glass rains down across the floor of the pawn shop.

A red and green blur plants steel-toed boots into the lead thug's chest, passing on his momentum into the criminal who then goes flying into the far wall.

"Hey!" One thug.

"Whu-what?" the other.

_W-WAP!_

Robin calmly but quickly brings a palm up and backhands the gun out of one thug's hand, then brings the hand back and bitchslaps the thug to the floor, unconscious.

_Cl-click_

"Don't move or you go bye bye, birdie." The last thug threatens, pressing the end of the handgun into Robin's temple.

Robin doesn't waste a beat, "Do you know who I am?"

The thug blinks, confused.

He continues on in an even, calm tone, "I'm Robin, the Boy Wonder. I've been jumping over rooftops and kicking grown men's asses since I was ten. I've fought and defeated the likes of the Joker, Slade, Clayface, Bane, the Essence."

The thug gulps, sweat running down his face as his eyes shift nervously.

"And now you think that you, some nameless thug, are going to take me out just because you have a gun? I should tear your arm off and feed it to you, and you know I can."

The thug shudders, pauses for a long moment… and sets the gun down, "Y-You win, man. It's all you."

Robin grins as the man gets on his knees and put his hands on his head. He brings a hand up from his utility belt, handcuffs in grasp. _ Ching!_

_VOOSH!_

An alien blur of red and lavender streaks past the broken window, stirring up a mini-cyclone in the pawn shop.

A moment of silence as Robin gazes at the window amusedly and the people stare at Robin, in complete awe. With a deft move Robin slaps the cuffs on the kneeling thug's hands.

"H-Hey, Robin."

The Boy Wonder turns his head, trying in vain to find the voice. A little boy points down at Robin's feet. His eyemasked gaze looks down at the thug he'd bitchslapped, now awake, smiling at him.

…

"Yes?"

"Umm," the thug started, awkwardly, "This might be a bad time, but… my kid loves you, think I could have an autograph?"

…

…

…

_Bam!_

Robin's foot sends the thug back to dreamland.

_VOOSH!_

The blur passes by again.

…

Ever so slowly Starfire hovers backwards the way she came by. Her face brightens, "Robin! Oh joyous! You must come immediately!"

"Why, Star? I mean… I'm kind in the middle of something here."

She shakes her head, crimson hair flying up like tiny flickers of flame, "No! You must come! The police are only a few city blocks from our position, they will manage the criminals! You must come!"

Robin smiles at the girl and starts to explain, calmly, "Star, I can't just leave my duties, I'll be home soon eno-"

"Unacceptable!" She cries with a mischievous smirk. The Tamaranean-turned-temporary-termagant grabs the Prince of Gotham and- _VOOSH_- takes to the skies with him, streaking towards the large 'T' on the edge of town.

…

…

…

…

…

A kid runs up to the cuffed thug and kicks him in the groin.

"UGH!"

"Take that!"

"Billy! Stop hurting the robber!" The boy's mother says, pulling him away from the thug, who keels over, eyes crossing.

"But Moooooom! Robin did it!"

"If Robin jumped off a bridge would you?"

Without hesitating he honestly nods, "Yes."

* * *

"Augh! Starfire, what is so important that you feel the need to kidnap me?" Robin asks, limply hanging in the fiery Titaness' grasp. 

She smiles broadly, "Oh do silence yourself, we both know you adore it when I whisk you away to keep you to myself."

Robin's blush is impressively slight, "You didn't just kidnap me just to make out, did you?"

A pretty Tamaranean face looks down with a somewhat stern inquiring, one small crimson brow cocked over an emerald eye, "And if I did, what of it?"

"Umm… it's cool?"

Starfire breaks into giggles and hugs the Boy Wonder close to her chest, "Oh Robin, of course I would not take you away from your duties just for the sake of 'the kissing'. Something far more joyous has occurred."

"And that would be?"

"Jericho has returned!" Starfire says, voice breathing pure felicity. She somehow skips in the air, and zooms quicker to the door of the Tower.

"Starfire, you aren't going to do this for every Titan who comes back, you know I'm calling them all in right?"

The princess hums merrily.

"Starfire… right?!"

The sun hangs blazing overhead in the sea-blue sky, trying in vain to match the brightness of one Tamaranean girl's spirit as she touches down in front of her home.

**  
**


	2. Summers Day

The uppermost level of Titans' Tower is the roof; just below that is a large expanse of a room with many things of interest. A few air hockey tables, foozeball, pool tables, surround sound stereo, and an actual pool… the size of your house.

It stands there, empty and quiet. Unassuming.

…

_Ding._

The elevator doors _whir_ open.

_Thud._

Jericho's back is to the floor, and save for his face his entire body is covered by a dusty, blue cloak.

Breaking the soft entanglement of their lips Raven takes a calm breath and looks down at the blonde boy with a contented, smooth expression, a hint of mischief about her pale face, "Worth coming back?"

A vigorous nod.

She smirks, "Maybe you should come back more often… or just not leave as much."

A wide smile soon vanishes in a passionate kiss between the two Titans.

Outside of one of the huge windows the sun shines brightly out on its day and the world is warm as the two roll on the floor in a thick, sensual silence.

_Chapter Two: Summers Day  
_

"Um… I think that prank worked a little too well. Heh." -Robin

Beast Boy and Kid Flash sit in the Main Room, musing and debating on a subject of dire interest and consequence.

"Dude," Beast Boy mutters, "Seriously, why is the most charismatic Titan in the Tower at the moment the one who can't speak?"

Wally looks over at the changeling, "I wouldn't call Jericho the most charismatic, just the most… mmm… sexy. … Next to Starfire… and Raven… and me… and Silkie."

"I'm being serious, dude. Before he and Raven hooked up Joey had a different girl on his arm all the time, and he can't even talk! How does he woo women when he can't talk?"

Wally strokes his chin in thought, "Ripped abs… ripped like _Jesus_."

The green imp's brow twitches in annoyance, "Alright, Mr. I'm-Too-Damn-Good, what do you think the secret behind Jericho's success with the ladies is?"

Wally stretches out in his civilian cloths and then settles back down into the large chair, long limbs overflowing over the piece of furniture, "I dunno, BB. The guy talks to people's faces with his hands. Maybe chicks think that he can talk to their vaginas with them too! Or maybe there's some stereotype about being mute meaning you're hung that we don't know about."

The changeling considers this for a moment before adding, "Or maybe castrated."

A reddish-brown brow cocks over one of Wally's blue eyes, "That makes no sense, BB. You're retarded and you don't even know. That's like saying you can wear pansy green tights and still consider yourself a man… O-Oh, hey Robin!"

Robin stands at an open window, arms crossed with the visible muscles flexing in vexation, his eyemask staring Wally down like an angry bird of prey.

Starfire floats behind the Boy Wonder, hands clasped over her mouth, green eyes wide, "Ummm…"

Wally puts on his best 'lovably dumb' smile. "Eheh, hey man. You know I'm just kiddin'."

"Dude, nice knowing you." Beast Boy says gravely before morphing into a mouse and scurrying off to the door, flattening his spine and squeezing thru the crack to escape the impending wrath of Robin.

Wally looks longingly at the scene of the green rodent's escape as the caped crusader's long shadow comes over him, with a nervous gulp he looks back at the head Titan.

Said Titan has moved inexplicably across the room to right in front of the fastest teen alive.

"Dah!" Wally jumps behind the chair in fright.

…

A head of reddish-brown hair pokes up over the top of the black recliner, a pair of inquisitive blue eyes blink at the mysterious crime fighter as a wind blows in from the open window and wraps the blackness of Robin's cape around his body. With a jaw like stone Robin's gravelly voice speaks hard, "What is wrong… with my _tights_?"

"N-Nothing's wrong with your tights man!" Wally says, leaning out from behind the chair and waving his arms in front of him in a truce-like manner, "For real, Robin, I was just joking. You know me man."

_Tchink-thunk!_

A bird-a-rang sticks in the cushion of the black recliner serving as Wally's cover… just an inch or less to the left of his heart.

…

"Peace easy!" _VOOSH!_

And the speedster escapes in a blur of motion.

"Robin," Starfire says softly, "I do not think that Wally meant any maliciousness when he spoke of your 'pansy green tights'."

Robin's eyemask cocks in ironic realization, waiting for the alien beauty to realize what she said.

…

"Eek!" she cries after a moment, "Not to imply that your green tights have any element liken unto 'pansyness' about them, indeed they are very 'unpansyish' in nature! I dare say I have never seen anything less pansy!"

Robin slides his weapon out of the chair and turns to Starfire with a smile, "It's alright Starfire, I _do_ wear pansy green tights."

"Ahhh… hm?" Starfire mumbles, confused at Robin's somewhat emasculating statement.

Robin shrugs his shoulders with a calm smile, "I really don't mind what Kid Flash said, but I need Kid Flash and everyone else to _think_ that I mind. Psychological factor, your leader shouldn't be a pansy. But in reality I do wear pansy green tights, it's kind of similar to the story of the King's new clothes. He was naked but he made the whole kingdom think he was in the newest fashion."

Starfire floats in the air, pondering, "So… the pansy nature of your tights equates to your inherent desire to be a naked king?"

Robin rubs the back of his head and smiles, "Eh, no."

The Boy Wonder takes the Tamaranean's hand, fingers laced, and leads her to the elevator, "If you want to know the real reason why I wear pansy green tights, it's this. After so many years of fighting crime in this outfit, it just feels natural."

The elevator door opens before them with a _whir_ and closes behind them the same as Starfire ponders.

"So, in essence you and the King both desire the same thing."

Robin casts Star a questioning look.

"You both desire to wear what is natural to you, and yet have people think it is something else."

Robin smiles at the fiery girl as the elevator starts ascending, "Heh, exactly."

The girls grins contentedly before questioning, "Robin, not that I am complaining but, to where are we going?"

"The pool-room."

"Why?"

"Whenever you flew me in I saw Jericho and Raven making out up there."

"Oh." Starfire says with a hint of a smile being subdued by restraint.

…

Giggles finally burst unbridled into the elevator.

* * *

On the other side of the City there stands a modest but nice building. It's outsides are painted the neatest white and it's roof goes up to a pointed steeple. It is not a poor church, but simply modest. The front lawn is very green and manicured, but not ridiculously so, and it contains a few trees. 

Coming down the sidewalk is a young man. He walks tough, head held high and jaw jutting out from underneath his _red_ hood which shadows the upper portions of his face. He has on a long jacket that goes down to his knees, the pockets of which he has stuffed his hands into long before this moment. As he starts past the church he smiles and climbs with vigor up the steps leading to the double doors. He grips the handles of the doors and pulls them open.

At first the young man is taken aback, but after a moment an even larger smile bursts onto his face from the sounds of unhindered joy.

A church service is in session, the chorus singing at the top of their lungs. The voices carry thru the Sunday morning air and reverberate throughout the whole church. The crowd is singing with the choir (for better or worse) and everybody is clapping their hands and swaying back and forth in time with the upbeat gospel.

The young man closes the doors behind him and beings to clap in time with the beat, a hint of a sway strikes person as he walks to a pew closest to the door in the far back and seats himself, remaining largely if not entirely unnoticed. His eyes glance out from under his hood and with an internal satisfaction he notices the large variety of people that are at the congregation..

The young and the old and everyone in betwixt from over the community have come. Poor people dressed in there meager best, the more well-to-do in their fancy Sunday dress. A scant few of the young and the rebellious (and even one or two of the old and rebellious) are dressed in traditional 'thug' attire, wearing doo-rags, baggy jeans, wife-beaters, tattoos, and faces constantly constipated with anger.

And our man sits in the very back, seemingly detached from the rest, not that he lacks hope, faith, nor love, or that he is any less joyous as them in his soul, but as if he was made different. Born of different stuff than the rest of the congregation. He smiles as his gaze pierces his hood's crimson-cast-shadow and witnesses the joyous worshipers, truly caught up in a celebration of their faith.

His name is Isaiah Crockett, better known to the masses as the Titan called Hotspot, and in truth, he _was_ born of different materials than the rest of his religious brothers and sisters.

He smiles genuinely as his brown-eyed gaze goes out on the crowd of worshipers. As the chorus attempts to wind down a section of women in the crowd start up another popular and uplifting gospel tune and the others catch on. Soon the chorus themselves are back into it, singing happily as the preacher stands in his pulpit, grinning befuddledly as the pious joy of his parishioners momentarily keeps him from begging his sermon.

A problem any preacher should be happy to have, and this one most certainly is.

Isaiah's grin widens at this. A frothing, pious heat seems to leek out of his soul and onto his face when he smiles, the color of his irises flaring slightly lighter as he utters forth an intensely warm, yet altogether soothing, bout of laughter at the religious man's happy predicament-

_BANG!_

And in this moment the halo of love is shattered from the inside out.

A young man stands up, pistol in hand, and demands in a frightened voice, "G-Give me the money! … NOW!"

The singing stops, the preacher looks aghast and overwhelmed with apprehension. Several women shriek, men clench their fists and grit their teeth, but dare not move.

Isaiah frowns from his voluntary seat in the back of the church.

The young robber is not one of the self-described 'hardcore thugs' in attendance that morning, but indeed appears to be one of the poorer looking ilk. His manner is frantic and unprofessional, Isaiah observes, he is no older than the Titan himself, most likely younger by a year or two.

The robber leaves the pews and stutter steps nervously up to the front of the aisle and points the gun around, sticking out his arm at full length as if wishing to be as far as possible from his own weapon, and gravely says, "I'm serious." He snags up the collection plate, "Everybody, put it all in here. Cash, credit cards, jewelry, everything. Now."

He tries to hand the plate to an older woman up front to start things off, but she merely looks at him.

Stares, with old, tempestuous eyes, "You're doing a low thing, boy."

He whirls on the old woman, pressing the gun to her wrinkled forehead.

_Click._

"Hey, give to the needy, Grams. I'm as needy as they come." He says as he shoves the collection plate to her chest.

She takes it slowly, giving the boy a stern look even as the cold metal still presses into her flesh.

The robber steps back, becoming more comfortable, less jittery. He once again brandishes the weapon ambiguously to the crowd, "Come on folks, it's the generous thing to do."

"_Drop the weapon, son."_

"Huh? Who said that? WHO WANTS TO DIE?" the young man says, looking about frantically now that his authority is again challenged.

He finds the source of the voice at the opposing end of the aisle in Isaiah.

"I'm right here, son. But I don't think you'll be killing me, or any of these people, anytime soon." Isaiah speaks with a calm, but stern, voice. Hot confidence saturating his words.

The robber brandishes the weapon at Isaiah threateningly, "Oh yeah! Do you really wanna try me? Huh? You think you some kinda hero? You think you a Titan or something? You really wanna try me?!"

Isaiah only smirks with a mirthless chuckle. He tilts his head back, thusly drawing back the crimson-cast-shadow from his face. The air distorts around him with sudden heat, his brown eyes flash to molten white.

"Ya, I really do." is all the Titan says before raising a hand out to the robber, acting as if his palm is suitable match for the robber's pistol.

"That's about enough, funny guy! Time to DIE!" the would-be robber shouts, taking aim before-

_FLASH!_

"AH!" the tremulous teen cries out as his firearm turns to fire. The gun glowing a bright cherry red suddenly as the boy lets the weapon drop to the floor. The robber grabs his hand, scorched and burnt, and cries out in pain.

With grace and power Isaiah leaps down the long aisle of the church in three strides, coat billowing about him. In half a moment the Titan is on the subdued villain, gripping him by the collar. Using one hand Isaiah lifts the robber up into the air over him and, with literally smoldering eyes, glares at him, "This is a place of sanctuary, and you have defiled it. Like a venom in the blood, you need to be purged of this sanctified house. And you now will be. RauGH!"

The Titan turns and throws the robber, sending a red and yellow wave of heat after him down the aisle, pushing him along a cindering path, and blasting him out of the front doors of the church and into the street.

The congregation stands with tumultuous cheer and hallelujah. Thanking both Isaiah and their Savior for deliverance from the robber as said young man stands smokingly, jitters, and runs off from the church into the sunny Sunday morn.

"Won't you go after him, Mr. HotSpot?" a younger boy asks.

At a slow trod Isaiah makes his way to the front door and looks out at the fleeing boy. He reaches his powerful arms out… and shuts the doors in front of him. The Titan turns towards the confused stares of the congregation. He smiles from under his _red_ hood, his eyes cooling and the ripples of heat dissipating from around his heroic form, "No, I think he's learned his lesson. Besides," Isaiah walks up to the old woman in front, still clutching onto the collection plate. With a smile he motions for it and with a smile she hands it to him, "I have better things to do."

His money _clinks_ softly as it hits the plate.

* * *

The son of Slade slides a hand down the length of a demon's daughter's body, mouths still connected. Joey's lips brush themselves over Raven's repeatedly as her hands reach around his shoulders, rubbing his neck slightly. 

In a warm silence the two let themselves intertwine. Small sparking tendrils of black energy spiderweb across the floor from Raven. A few of the same creep out from her torso and up along Joey's arms to his body. Their sparks nothing but warm flashes. The tendrils themselves like ethereal arms pulling him closer.

But the silence is interrupted by a light _ding_ followed by an airy _whir_, but the two impassioned teens each are so enthralled by the other that they don't notice. This fact makes it all the more surprising to them whenever the Prince of Gotham makes his stealthy and speedy way across the poolroom to right in front of the two, the alien angel keeping her distance. She puts her Herculean hands over her mouth to keep from cooing at the sight of her two friends.

Robin grins with mischievous mirth, "Ahem."

The peacefully sparking tendrils of dark explode forcefully in ebony violence, serving to further shatter the silence and send a mute towhead rocketing thru the air.

Jericho waves his hands, trying to get balance as the flies thru the air. Three sets of eyes follow the mute Titan's arc, and three sets of eyes wince as he lands-

_SPLOOSH!_

Right in the pool.

…

…

…

Jericho's head pokes up out of the water, frowning, water dripping off his lion-like mane of shaggy golden hair and side-burns.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…Hehehe!" Starfire giggles rapturously.

A smile melts across Joey's face as he leans back and floats in the pool.

A curve comes to Raven's lightly blushing face as she shakes her head.

Robin rubs the back of his neck, grinning, "Um… I think that prank worked a little too well. Heh."

* * *

After relocation Joey sits on his long abandoned bed, clad in a dry pair of jeans, his upper body still damply exposed to the world as he uses a towel to dry himself off. 

Raven sits atop his dresser, smiling mischievously at him from across his bedroom.

Joey brings the towel up and dries his face, as he brings the towel down his hazel eyes meet her blue and a fair brow raises expectantly, inquiring.

She answers with delicate calm, "What can I say Joseph? I always did make you wet."

A smile erupts across his face as he falls back onto his bed in mute laughter at the in-joke. His soaked hair dampening the long still sheets.

As he laughs, Raven levitates off the dresser with a calm quaintness and slowly crosses the space of the room thru the air.

The mute Titan props himself up on an elbow and watches her advance. She hovers to a stop in front of his bed and touches down. Leaning over his half-naked body to reach, she grabs the towel and lays down beside him. The two smile warmly at each other before-

_Fwumb. Swish-Swish-Swish-Swish!_

Raven clamps the towel over his dripping blonde head and shakes it back and forth vigorously, a small mischievous grin on her lips the whole time. Joey waves his arms and legs comically thru the air, as if trying to escape from the horrible torture that is having his hair dried by a towel. Raven smirks to herself, tightens the towel, and says in a comically deep voice, "No. You shall never escape the grasp of Raven."

Joey's body pauses at that, as if thinking, and then gives a thumbs up.

Raven grins and actually gives an audible laugh, a rare something even for Joey, and sits back on the long unused bed. Joey himself sits up, towel still draped over his head.

Raven smirks and brings her hands to her lips, stifling further laughter.

Joey peaks his head out from under the towel, hazel eyes wide, bottom lip pouting in a full blown puppy dog face.

A dark brow raises over a blue-violet eye, "I never did like dogs. Yet here I am with one anyway." she grins and puts a hand on his head, ruffling the towel about a little bit more.

Joey grins and leans forward and puts his lips on hers once more, they fall back onto his bed with a soft sound and hold each other, the over-abundance of fondness betwixt the two only being prescribed to absence.

Before they can continue their intimate re-acquaintance a blaring alarm makes it's way thru the air.

A mute sigh joins with an audible one.

"Is it just me or does that crime alarm always ring at ironic and otherwise inconvenient moments?" Raven asks.

"..." Jericho replies heatedly.


	3. Baby Doll, Part I

_CLANG!_

Robin's boots reverberate metallically against the radio tower he just landed on. Gripping onto the side with one hand and leaning out over the edge of the water, Robin points down at a speedboat fleeing down a canal that empties into the bay. The vessel is carrying four armed robbers and their would-be spoils.

His cape billows, his red breast swells; silhouette against the morning sun Robin bellows, "TITANS! GO!"

Chapter Three: Baby-doll, Part I 

"_Oh, whats that?" sniff sniff, "Do I smell burnt grass stain?"_ _– Cyborg_

Despite the iconic vibrations given off by the emboldening cry the exclamation is redundant, as the Titans have already given chase.

Starfire sails thru the blue sky above the speedboat, hurling waves of cosmic energy down on them like vengeance from on high. The robbers know how to counter, however, as the man at the wheel steers and dodges around the glowing onslaught.

"Charlie!" an older, slightly chubby thug yells, "Take out that bitch!"

"Chill, I got it." Charlie, a bear of a man, says calmly as he lifts up a large, automated gun, with multiple belts of ammunition loaded through it and the letters 'B.F.G.' scrawled on the side. The large goon begins to take pot shots at the Tamaranean, causing her to retreat further up into the sky.

Meanwhile, at blurring speeds the T-Car pulls up beside the speedboat along the parallel road.

"Goddammit!" the chubby thugs yells, pulling a pistol and firing at the T-Car while a thin fourth crook sets up their final and most deadly piece of weaponry: a mortar launcher. As the bullets ping off the T-Car a panel on the roof of the titanic transportation opens up and a small, cylindrical device pops out, then aims for the boat.

Behind the wheel, Cyborg's malicious grin goes from ear to ear, "I love the smell of plasma cannon in the morning. Gets me all excited."

Jericho, sitting in the passenger seat, gives a hearty nod before turning back to his study of the fleeing speedboat.

"No, seriously man. I've got a full on robot chubby."

Before Jericho can toss his cookies the cannon rips through the air.

_PHLOOOOOMMMBBB!_

"YO! WATCH THE FUCK OUT!" the pistol-man yells.

A man with sandy blond hair standing at the wheel sees the searing beam of blue nearing them and swerves just in time to avoid Cyborg scoring a bull's-eye. But the beam hits the water just by the vessel with force enough that it throws the thugs of tilt, nearly sending the pistol-toting crook back in the direction of the thin man loading the mortar; instead he crashes into the side of the boat.

Grunting, the thin man aims the launcher, and nearly lets the mortar shell fly when a green tentacle creeps out of the water and-

WHUIISHLAP! 

"AAAH!"

_SPLOOSH!_

-grabs the thug and pulls him under.

"SHITBALLS!" the blond screams from the wheel.

Charlie ignores the predicament and avails against the assailing Starfire with a constant stream of automated gunfire.

The pistol-toting thug gets up and looks over the edge of the boat, spotting a large something green he shoots a few rounds into the water, sending the green creature scrambling. The thug turns to the driver, "Dammit. Get to the bay before these freaks take us out!"

"I'm trying boss-" 

_FSHING!_

Erupting gracefully from a black nothing Raven takes a step towards the driver, eyes glowing hot gray from beneath the shade of her hood. Passing on the chance to make a witty comment, Raven merely scowls and lifts a darkly glowing hand towards the driver's sandy-blond head.

The driver's eyes go wide in fear, "SHIT!"

_Cl-click!_

"Don't move, Spooky, or I'll turn your blue hood red." the chubby boss growls, aiming his pistol at Raven's head from across the speedboat.

_SPLOOSH!_

A green tentacle emerges from the channel's water and launches the fourth thug back onto the boat, right into his boss's threatening form.

"GAH!" he yells as the two crash to the deck.

Beast Boy flips out of the water in mid-transformation and lands on deck just as his tentacles morph back into arms. The changeling gives a toothy grin, "Dude, you're all wet!"

Raven just cocks a brow.

…

"Yea, OK, it was stupid, I get it."

Griting his teeth Charlie spins, aiming the 'B.F.G.' at the green teen's head.

"EEP!"

A second before he's able to pull the trigger Raven slides betwixt the end of the barrel and the shape shifter and in a swift flash of black light- _FSHING!_- the two disappear as a few rounds rip thru the space where they were a moment before.

_BL-BL-BLAM! CR-CRACK!_

"Dammit Charlie! Stop putting bullet holes in my goddamn boat!"

Before the large man can respond it starts to rain smoldering bolts of energy, _"HHHHYAA!"_

As the crooks look upward they see the bronze-skinned alien in a spiral descent, flailing her arms violently and hurling volleys of fiery starbolts at them in a fury.

With a growl, Charlie fends her off.

"GrrrrRRRAAUGH!"

_B-B-BL-BLAM!_

Her glowing eyes widen as the wave of hot lead sears thru the morning air at her. Too close to dodge, she halts in mid-air, takes a breath, and claps her immolated hands together mightily.

_THU-ZAAAT!_

A thunder clap and a supernova of green light later the bullets liquefy and splatter off the tough Tamaranean skin of the retreating Starfire. The few liquid bullets that connect hiss and sputter, charring the princess's smooth skin.

As the alien angel retreats with a furious scowl, the T-Car moves back into position besides the speedboat, it's plasma cannon glowing and humming in electro-magnetic zeal.

The blond cries out from the driver's seat, "We're almost to the bay, Boss!"

"Good! Get us there!" he screams as he gets up and levels his pistol at the T-Car.

Inside the T-Car, Cyborg grins again, "Here's round two, dirty mutha-futhas!"

The end of the cannon bulges with smoldering energy, but before it goes of the crook-boss aims and pulls the trigger, letting one bullet into the positronic maelstrom of Cyborg's cannon and-

_SCKKKKRRTTT-BLOHW!_

-blowing it sky-high off the T-Car's now smoking roof.

"SHIT!" the metal Titan curses.

The boss grins, satisfied as he and his crew draw near to the bay and apparent freedom. Charlie was keeping the alien at bay, the T-Car's power was shorting out and it was slowly drawing back as a result of the destructed cannon, and the other Titans were nowhere to be seen.

It seems like it will be a clean get-away.

It won't be.

The thin fourth crook starts to come to as he opens his blurry eyes and rubs his dripping head. Semi-consciously the thug stares at the decelerating T-Car and it's flickering lights. His groggy and slightly waterlogged mind takes note of the shotgun window rolling down, and a blonde head poking out the window.

He squints his eyes and tries to concentrate thru his concussion, "What the-?"

Suddenly he becomes acutely aware two sets of eyes with piercing hazel irises… then the whites of the eyes go black and an astral green glow grows out from the face.

His mind sobers from the pain and his eyes go wide with shock, "WHAT THE FLAMIN' F-!"

From the T-Car's passenger seat- _Fl-FLASH!_- Jericho makes eye contact with the thin thug and Jericho's body disappears in a flash of emerald light. Unseen to the normal human's naked eye his body has now become a phantom, half-existing in our world as it flies out the window, across the canal, and into the body of the recently awoken thug.

The boss squints his eyes, "What the hell was that light?"

Suddenly a hand breaks the boss's grip on his pistol- "Hey!"- as the firearm flies into the open air another hand like the first grabs the gun and pushes it roughly into the temple of the lead-crook.

"You?!" the boss squeaks in fear and shock.

The thin crooks, currently holding a gun to his leader's face, has a look of mortification and dread on his face. Eyes wide and chin shaking, he speaks with some effort, "I-I-I d-don't know-w-whu-whats goin-g on!" 

"GET THE GUN OUT OF MY FACE YOU STUPID ASS!"

"Huh- WHOAH! DUDE WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

"Shit…"

"_I-I CAN'T CONT-TROL MYSELF!"_

As the T-Car falls farther behind, Cyborg's mechanical eye stays zoomed in on the deck. He shakes his head with a smile, "They always freak when he does that."

Charlie's frown devolves into a contorted scowl of twisted anger. With a rare violence he takes a wide step back thru all the smoking shell cases and slams the butt of his huge firearm into the thin thug's neck with a meaty sound. The crook crumples to the ground, the pistol falling out of his hand and bouncing on the wooden deck.

The quick distraction made a hole in the boat's defense, and Starfire takes advantage of it as she dives in, red hair flailing like a solar wind.

"GGGRRRRYYYAAAHH!!!!" 

_TZAT-TZZATAT! TZAT!_

The starbolts connect and leave charred, gaping holes about the size of a bowling ball throughout the boat. The concussive effect of the alien bombardment sends the vessel up in the air a full two feet before crashing back down onto the water and sending all three thugs sprawling.

Now without anyone to steer the boat veers hard to the left and before the crooks can react the speedboat collides with the side of the canal-

_BRUNK!_

goes end over top due to momentum-

_CREAAAAK!_

spins slightly in the air and comes down on it's side, hard.

_CRUNCH!_

All the thugs fall unceremoniously out of the boat and sprawl out, spread-eagle and unconscious on the pavement.

…

….

…

The leather driver's chair spontaneously combusts. (_phowmb!_)

…

…

_Cu-clunc cu-clunc cu-clunk cu-tssssshshhh!_

The T-Car dies from its tortured roll ten feet away from the wreckage. The side doors opens and it's driver steps out.

In the middle of stepping towards the wreck site Cyborg turns his head and looks sympathetically at his baby, "Sorry girl, I promise I'll fix ya up real good as soon as I get the time."

Back to business, the 400 pounds mass of machine blended seamlessly with muscle marches to the wreck site where _three_ unconscious bodies lie dreaming, a ship sits crumpled on it's sit and a leather drivers chair burns away in an oddly merry fashion.

After a moment of silence as if the mechanical man where waiting for an ambiguous something, he speaks, "C'mon Joey, I know you know I know you're fine, so why you even waitin'?"

Across the thin thug's doubly unconscious eyes, a hint of green sparkles before- _Fl-FLASH!_- Jericho's body materializes ex nihilo.

Cyborg stares at the towhead, expecting and answer to his question.

All he gets is an emotive shrug.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

A playful wink.

"Sorry, I don't swing that way and you're taken."

Jericho sticks out his tongue at his large friend.

_SWOOSH!_

"_GORTHEC TUNYBAR SCHKEELATMEK!"_ Starfire roars into the morning air as she stands over the thugs in a victorious battle stance; eyes glowing hotly and crimson hair wild in the breeze.

…

Cyborg and Jericho inch back.

"Um-" she stutters, and then melts back into a more docile posture, "Sorry friends, I was merely excited over our capture of the villains! It is a most worthy cause for celebration after all, yes?" 

Cyborg's metal palm rubs the back of his head, "Uh, I guess Star but, you usually don't get that worked up over taking down a few thugs… or supervillains… or anything that didn't physically or mentally scar us for life, really."

"Uhum… yes, well," the Tamaranean swings her legs idly back and forth and puts a finger to her lip as she floats in concentration, "I believe my recent zeal in battle is born out of joy for Jericho's return and the prospective return of the other Titans for the nearing rendezvous!"

_FSHING!_

"No kiddin'." Beast Boy mutters as he and Raven appear via a fount of black energy, "Yesterday she was so happy she actually played me in a game of _Super Mega Monkeys: Ultra Rainbow-Body Task Force Delta 8_ and not only did she rape my virtual self in ways I previously though digitally impossible, but afterwards she started bad mouthin' in Tamaranean, melted thru the cover on the couch, and then she _ate_ the controller before burping up the 'x' button on my forehead!"

Cyborg, Raven and Jericho all stand slack jawed staring at Beast Boy before their heads pivot, in unison, towards Starfire.

She is ignorant of their stares as she playfully floats after a yellow-winged butterfly.

…

The three turn back to Beast Boy.

His ears drop, "I have no idea dudes."

…

"_Such pretty wings you have, Mrs. Fly!"_

Jericho breaks up into mute giggles.

Ignoring her quieter-half, Raven looks around the scene as if trying to find something missing.

Cyborg, on the other hand, kneels down and notices a different something missing, "Guys, I think we have a problem. There are only three unconscious crooks here."

"So?"

"There should be four, BB." Cyborg groans.

"Bzuh? Aw man! I _knew_ we should have made Kid Flash wake his ass up and come! This is all _his_ fault dudes!"

"Tchyeah, you know as well as us BB that life, limb and Jinx are the only things that can get that kid out of bed before nine AM."

Raven comes back to the conversation, "I'm afraid that a thug and the poster-boy for ADHD aren't the only things missing."

All the rest of the Titans turn from their miscellaneous activities and give their attention to Raven with a collective, "Huh?"

"Anyone seen the Boy Wonder?"

Back at the radio tower, Robin is now sitting on the metal beam he had been heroically leaning from only minutes earlier, sullen after discovering a severe lack of any tall structures near enough for his grappling hook. Effectively classifying the Boy Wonder as one thing he rarely ever is.

Stuck.

"I wonder how long it'll take 'em to come get me."

PAGE BREAK 

The large door to Titans's Tower slides open lethargically, matching the mood of the Titans as they amble their way up to the Main Room of their headquarters.

"Dude!" Beast Boy's voice cracks, "Why did they have to rob a bank so _early_?! Seriously, it must be, like, eight in the morning!"

Cyborg glances down at his forearm panel, "Actually, it's about 6:45."

"WHAT!"

"Calm down Beast Boy, a little lost sleep isn't going to kill you." Raven drones.

"Dude! I didn't even know there _was_ a six forty-five!" he says as he gestures emphatically with his arms, "Besides, handsome young devils such as myself need to get their beauty rest! How else am I supposed to satisfy all my adoring fangirls?"

_VOOSH!_- "I dunno but if you're going for beauty I'd say you should just start hibernating now and don't stop till you finally hit puberty." Spouts the recently appeared Wally West.

Cyborg makes a show of sniffing the air, "Oh, whats that?" _sniff sniff_, "Do I smell burnt grass stain?"

Jericho smiles broadly, offering Cyborg a hand-slap.

_Smack!_

Nipping the blossoming banter in the bud, Robin steps into the conversation from Starfire's side with a comment of his own, "Well, well, look who finally decided to wake up? Y'know we already busted up an armed bank robbery this morning while you were in dreamland. Normally that alone would cost you dish duty for a week, but seeing as how you're up a full two hours before normal, if your reason is good I might let it slide."

Beast Boy's ears perk up, "Hey yeah! Just earlier we were saying the only things that could wake you up were life, limbs and-"

"_Me?_"

"-DAH!" Beast Boy jumps at the new voice.

Jinx skips further into the room, latches onto the speedster from behind and looks Robin in the mask, "The Boss Bird calls and I came runnin'… well, walking actually… more like dragging my feet to be completely honest, but I was nearby. If I'd know this boy was here," she rubs up Wally's mat of hair, "I'd have been here already."

"Verily, Wallace does come and goes as the wind."

Wally winces slightly from the use of his name, Jinx grins mischievously, "Yeah, you're right Star. It's hard to keep track of him. Iddn't dat wight, _Wallace?_"

Cyborg, Beast Boy and Jericho try and hold back their snickering.

Starfire smiles, indeed knowing Wally was uncomfortable with his full first name but also knowing he didn't know she knew.

… or something of that nature.

Robin allows himself a grin as well, "Well you're a few days early Jinx, and that's great news."

Wally's face lights up with hope.

"Yep, dish duty for a week, Wallace."

Wally's hope is dashed across the proverbial rocks so hard it's almost audible.

"Crud."

"HAHAHA! 'Swhat you get for ditching us!" Beast Boy laughs.

"Can it, grass clippings."

"Oh," Jinx continues, bringing the attention of the room back on her, "but I'm not the only other Titans besides me, Wally and-" she eyed the blonde boy standing next to Raven, "-handsome Mr. Jericho over there to show up early."

Wally looks uncomfortable at the 'handsome' comment.

Raven's brow furrows.

Jericho fidgets in his place.

Jinx winks at him playfully.

Robin, either oblivious or uncaring, interrupts, "Who else?"

Flame rising from the kitchen stove captures the room's collective attention as a figure wields dual frying pans and flipping omelets fill the air before landing gracefully back into the pans.

A powered down Hot Spot smiles at his teammates, "Who wants breakfast?"

And there was much revelry.

PAGE BREAK! 

Under the near noon sky a man shuffles slowly along the sidewalks in a dirty, dilapidated part of the city known as the South End. He wears an oversized trenchcoat with the collar upturned to hide his face. The man's pace is odd as every other step or so his whole body shakes acutely like a beast shot and about collapse.

The man takes a turn and continues down to a street corner. On said corner there is a medium sized, two-story store that has boards over the windows and curtains pulled closed from the inside.

Peeking out from the upturned collar the man peers around as random people mill about him in their everyday routine. After reassuring himself that no one was paying him any special, unwanted attention, he spins with a billowing of his coat and enters the door to the grimy building.

Ding 

The bell announcing his entrance rings silently about the wide, musty shop. At first glance it seems almost like a regular mom-and-pop grocery store with its shelves and rows filled with miscellaneous knick-knacks for sale. However, after taking a closer look at the malicious, psychedelic, and otherwise illegal or immoral nature of the wares, it became apparent why they kept only three of the overhead lights on, leaving the most of the musty building covered in a dim half-light and crawling shadows.

As the faintest haunts of the bell evanesce into nothingness a man appears behind a business counter on the wall opposite to the door. He is a middle-aged man with long, wavy black hair, dirty and knotted and natty. The same could be said for the man's scraggly goatee. His skin was a dark tanned, and the sags and lines in his skin gave the man a sense of being weathered beyond his years. His eyes were hidden behind wide, reflective sunglasses. Upon seeing the shuffling man enter his store, the nervous look of apprehension melts from the man's face and is replaced with a wide grin, showing off the man's yellow, crooked teeth.

"Charlieee." The man behind the counter calls like an old friend.

The shuffler lets his coat fall off and places it on a coat rack near the door, revealing his huge body, short brown hair, and large jaw. It's the missing crook from the speedboat chase earlier that morning, the one who'd been taking pot shots at the alien.

"Simon, good to see a familiar face." Charlie speaks the words like they leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Ain't it funny how that works out?" Simon says, plopping himself down in a chair, propping his feet up on the counter, and lighting up a cigarette.

Charlie shuffles forward, grimacing.

Simon peers through his sunglasses at the dried red stains on the large man's pant leg and the way his right arm cradles his torso.

"Yeah, I heard your guys's operation went bad. Run in with the wonder brats, no less."

Charlie's stoney jaw lowers in a frown, "We had it easy until Robin showed up and busted up half our crew before we could even make out of the store. Outside the rest of his gang showed up and by the time we got to the boat there were only four of us left. We nearly got to the bay too-"

"Within fifty yards, the way I heard it."

Charlie raises an incredulous brow, "That was less than two hours ago, how could you possibly know that?"

Simon smiles. Yellow, jagged teeth.

"C'mon Charlie, I don't just sell _things_, I sell knowledge. It's my job to have the most knowledge, the most reliable knowledge, much quicker than my opponents just like it's my job to have the biggest guns, the most twisted drugs and the most illegal kind of human services there are. And trust me, of all the things I sell, the right bits of intel are by far the most profitable."

Charlie responds by hoisting up a small, black bag and setting it down on the table with multiple clinking sounds.

Simon's feet whip off the desk and he leans in with a smile, opens up the bag, and pulls out a shiny blue diamond wide as a silver dollar. Taking off his glasses and putting on his monocle he inspects the jewel and smiles happily after a moment, laughing like a cat playing with a mouse.

"Are they all this good of quality?"

"They all came from the same place, if that's what you're asking."

Putting his glasses back on Simon puts the diamond back in the bag and then tosses the bag on a nearby scale, weighing the contents and determining the cost.

"You are looking to sell, right?"

"You know damn well I'm looking to sell."

That nasty grin never leaves his face.

After reading the weight, Simon opens up a cash drawer that is mysteriously missing any type of currency underneath a twenty, being packed to the brim with fifties and hundreds.

He counts out a decent stack and shoves the cash to the large crook. He snatches it up and counts it with a furious passion. After calculating, Charlie looks up at the man, his face red with anger, "What the fuck is this?"

The grin is profoundly gone, "Your payout for these jewels."

"WHAT?!" Charlie roars, pounding the desk with rage.

Cl-click! Cl-click cl-click! 

The large thug becomes acutely aware that three or four guns are trained on his head from the dark places in the room his peripheral vision can't quite make out.

"Look, Charlie, I know your problems. I know about the girl. And I feel for ya man, I really do. But I can't give handouts to every Joe Schmoe who comes in off the street and tells me a sad story. This ain't no Gotham, but this _is_ the South End. Right here there's plenty of sadness, plenty of tragedy, and plenty of heartache rooted so deep them wonder brats can't even wash it clean. H.I.V.E. used to work out of this place and what's left of it still does. Thugs and thieves roam the nighttime streets in packs. Pollution is rampant because the companies know no one cares if they dump their shit down here. Plasmus and random slade-bots mill about aimlessly, destroying anything in their way because their master left them, oh yeah, he used to work out of South End too 'fore he went off the radar. So I'm sorry that in your life a little rain has fallen, but join the damn club." Simon grabs the sack of jewels and sits back in his seat. His feet prop themselves up on the desk again as he palms the black bag. "Now take the money I give ya and don't come back till you've cooled off and got some more business."

With an aggravated sigh Charlie picks up his money, shuffles to the exit, grabs his coat, and slams the door behind him.

Ding! PAGE BREAK! 

The clicking of the keyboard and the soft digitized glow are the only things invading the darkness of Robin's room. He always did focus better in the dark, though it's not hard to figure out where that comes from.

The computer in Robin's room was neither as large nor as powerful as the Titans' Mainframe, but it was still as supercomputer in its own right and, much more importantly, it was smaller. Small enough to fit in his room without being an impediment to his functioning. This was of advantage to the crime busting teen because if the other Titans were to see him laboring for hours over the Titans' main computer they would begin to worry of about his obsessive tendencies. Robin knew this, and knew that sometimes he could become dangerously obsessed. But if Slade taught Robin anything, it was that family can pull itself out of the stickiest situations.

Robin hadn't been obsessed over anything in quite a while save for a red-haired princess from beyond the stars, but that didn't mean he still didn't need to slave over statistics and reports every now and then, and right now there was an escaped criminal on the loose.

And Robin meant to find him, by any and all means possible as he scanned every major source of criminal profiles in the western hemisphere looking for a facial recognition of the large crook.

'Who was trying his damnest to shoot up your girlfriend.'

Robin's eyemask squints at the voice in the back of his head. Taking a deep breath he calms the rage, and keeps the issue business-like. But makes a concise mental note to cause a little unnecessary damage whenever he catches the crook.

Knock, knock, knock 

Robin doesn't react to the summons.

"Robin? … Tim? After Isaiah's wonderful breakfast I was still slightly hungry. So after embarking into the mysterious and often dangerous realm know as our 'refrigerator' I discovered some of the coo-kies that were neither spoiled nor spawning new forms of life, I thought you might wish to share them with me." 

Robin shakes his head with a small smile, _'We really need to clean out that fridge.' _"Sure, it's unlocked, Star."

The door to Robin's room slides open with a _whir_ and a shaft of light erupts into the darkness of Robin's room as Starfire steps inside with a slow grace.

She stares up at the off fluorescent lights with a pouting face, finding their off-ness distasteful but not wishing or willing to bring it up.

Robin notices and had anticipated. He brings his gloved hands together.

Clap, clap! 

The lights buzz to life and the room is flooded with luminescence.

Starfire smiles.

With any other being in the multiverse Robin would've scowled and demanded their reason for intrusion, however-

Robin spins his computer chair around to face her and puts on a smile, "Hey Kori."

The door closes behind her as her smile decreases in size but increases in intimacy, "Tim, I know that the darkness helps you to concentrate, but surely the upcoming meeting is no need for such mental labor."

Though his smile never left his face, Robin mentally winced, remembering all the work that still needed to be done before the next week was thru for the upcoming meeting. But now wasn't the time or the place to worry about that. His smile falters.

"It's not that Kori, its that I'm trying to track down the missing crook from earlier this morning. He's still loose out there on the streets, dangerous and armed."

Starfire sets down a tray on Robin's bedside, "But surely one lowly criminal should not be too difficult to track."

Robin spins his chair back to the computer, "That's just it though, Kori, I can't find anything on this guy. Where he lives, his past, or even what his name is. Either this man is a master at his art and only joined that bunch of rag-tag thugs as a distraction…"

"_Or_…" The alien princess nudges the Prince of Gotham on as she wraps her arms around his neck, peering over his shoulder at his work.

"Or," Robin begins, "This is his first crime."

…

"Why would he choose to become a criminal, Tim?" she asks tentatively.

Robin sighs, "Why does any one become what they become?" Robin turns and stands, "Choice. He chose to become a villain, the reason why is irrelevant at this point."

Ping! 

The heroic couple pivots their glances towards the computer. On screen is a mug shot of the criminal, only a few years younger and a lot less sober, and the words 'Match Found.'

Tim, the Robin, leans in and begins to read his profile out loud, " Date: 5/5/02 Name: Charles Dascomb. Age:27 Height: 6'4'' Weight: 280 lbs. Reason for arrest: DUI. First Offence."

A green gloved hand punches a few keys in a flash and soon the computer is scouring the internet for a record of Charles Dascomb.

With a breath of relief, Tim smiles up a the girl opposite him, "Found him, now we just need to find out about him."

Kori smiles at the success.

Tim spoke quickly with the excitement that comes from closing in on one's prey, "Now that we've go a name and personal information it should take no time at all to fi-"

Ping! 

Robin was proved correct before he could finish his statement as the computer drug up several files on the statistical life of Charles Dascomb.

The two teens lean to the screen to read…

Starfire gasps sharply.

Robin's brow furrows.

PAGE BREAK! 

A massive hand opens the lid to an American Express mail box and shoves an envelope, stuffed with cash, into.

Charlie Dascomb walks away from the mail box, hoping that the money will be enough for now, maybe even start things going, and heads back to a large, gas-guzzling pick-up truck.

As he backs out and leaves the parking lot of the post office he makes a quick right, heading for the South End again. Looking down on the dash he sees a picture of a young girl with neck length blonde hair and big, blue eyes. In the picture she is playing in a yard with a golden retriever larger than she is that is currently licking her in the face, behind her is Charlie himself, a few years younger, with a beautiful older woman who looks much like the young girl.

The tiniest drip of water forms in the corner of Charlie's eye and threatens to fall down his stoney face. His eyes focus on the little girl as he drives, "Don't you worry, Daddy's comin'. Don't you worry, Baby-doll."


	4. Baby Doll, Part II

Swimming in the shadows

_A young face framed by blonde hair smiles, giggling in the sunlight._

A ripple on the face of reality

_Crying, endless crying. A man dressed in a blue uniform glances up with a sympathetic look._

A twist in fate-

_A funeral procession, lead by a widower and his now motherless daughter._

-and then a sickening descent down the praeternatural spiral of the ethereal.

_Blonde hair barely staying on a pale scalp, balding from the chemo._

And then a man his prime looks up and finds himself in the Pit, damned by actions outside of his control.

Frantic and scared, he glances around, searching for hope…

"_Daddy… don't leave me alone." Her small voice trembles, "I-I don't want to b-be alone like when I found out about Mommy."_

"_I-I won't, Baby-doll. I swear… Never alone."_

_Never alone._

What would you do to escape from Hell? Where would you go to reclaim the already broken shreds of your life?

"_Look, Charlie, I know your problems. I know about the girl."_

'_No, you really have no fucking clue.'_

**How far would you go to keep a promise?**

Charles Dascomb wakes with a start from his involuntary nap.

He glances up curious and agitated. After remembering where he is and what he needs to do Charlie pushes himself up off the truck bed and shakes the grogginess out of his head, "Must've fell asleep after loading that last round of ammo."

He closes up the truck bed with his massive hands and throws a tarp over the truck bed. He pops a couple of pills for the starbolt wound in his leg and the broken ribs, throws on his coat and heads for the truck. Slamming the door and driving out of the warehouse, Charlie drives out into the bright City day with a truck full of weapons and explosives.

In the truck cab Charlie's steely eyes glance down to the dash and see the picture taken five years ago.

Before the cancer,

Before the car wreck,

Before Hell.

_Chapter Four: Baby-doll, Part II_

Raven walks over to her window and throws back the thick curtains, brightening up the darkness of her room. She sighs with mild content as she turns back around to see a particular towhead currently staring fearfully at a sinister stone statue of a four-eyed raven.

"Joey, calm down. It's just a sculpture. It's not going to hurt you."

Joey tentatively taps a finger on the bird's head, jumping back as soon as he makes contact.

"Joey." She calls in a drawling, not-again fashion.

Joey looks at her, hazel eyes squinting in faux concentration, and signs to her, _'That thing has always freaked me out, Raven. I mean seriously! First time I saw it I thought it was gonna eat me or peck my eyes out or crap on my head or something!'_

Raven's face gains a flippant smirk, "Never stops you from visiting, now does it?"

'_The light makes it seems less scary.'_ Joey adds, motioning to the window in a child-esque manner.

Raven's smirk deepens as she lays herself down on her bed, "The dark never stopped you on all those cold, lonely nights."

Joey's façade of childish innocence vanishes, replaced with his own irreverent grin, _'You say that like we've done anything to generate heat on those nights. Not that I haven't tried to convince you.'_

She cocks her head to the slightly to the side, conservatively playful, "You know it isn't that simple, Joey."

His response is quick, _'Lets see, Trigon has had his ass doubly kicked by you and his influence is nearly if not entirely disappeared from your psyche as a result.'_ As the blonde boy signs he stalks closer and closer to the bedside near Raven,_' Thusly you have tighter control of your powers and greater sway over your emotions like you have since Trigon failed to take over this world. Throw in some daily meditation to ensure your control over your powers and sometimes I wonder if you don't just like to play the Ice Queen when it suits you.'_

"I wasn't talking about my powers or parentage, Joey. I was referring to the fact that you just need to do some better 'convincing'." Raven retorts, still smiling.

Joey, now at the bedside, plants his arms on the pillow to either side of Raven's face and mouths, _'Oh really?'_

He bends down and pecks her on the lips.

"Yes, really. But in a more interesting matter, what was it we were doing before the alarm went off this morning?"

'_Celebrating my early return?'_

"Yes, that was it. Lets celebrate some more." Raven grins as she pulls the mute blonde down on her bed.

* * *

The poolroom stood quietly as a few floors below Raven and Joey made their witty banter and danced around the line of PG-13- 

_THUMP!_

"Mmmmm!"

-as a hex-witch and the fastest teen alive slam up half naked against the window and sprint past second base, gunning for home.

"Ah god, Jean! I missed you bad!"

" Not that I'm not flattered, but you visited me three days last week between international missions. How bad could you really be missing me?"

"But I haven't even seen you in, like, two and a half days! Normally I don't go half that long without _tasting_ you!"

"Well, we'll just have to give you your fix now won't we?" she said breathily as the two sank down to the poolroom floor.

* * *

"I wonder what the other Titans are up to?" Isaiah wonders innocently as he twirls about in one of Cyborg's mechanic's chairs. 

Leaning up from the sparks, lights and fire Cyborg dims the welding torch that is his arm and pushes up his welder's mask, "Well Izzy, 'sides you and Jean and Joey showin' up this seems like a regular day to me."

Isaiah chirps, "Ah yes, jewel store robberies, the best part of wakin' up!"

"Dang skippy." Cyborg smiles, wiggling his eyebrows, "So, way I guess it: Raven and Joey are hanging out somewhere making romantic, semi-sexual banter fit for a romantic comedy."

Isaiah nods.

"Jean and Wally are probably getting their freaky-nasty on."

Isaiah blanches.

"And Robin's up in his room brooding over the missing criminal and he won't stop until he knows everything about him… down to the type of toothpaste the man prefers, which _will_ be soon. Starfire is doting diligently over the teen wonder and trying to get him to relax, which he won't be able to until we catch this missing crook."

"Tch," Isaiah interrupts, "I can't believe that guy is so uptight. I mean for real! He's got a smokin' hot alien girlfriend who wants nothing more than to get intimate with the inside of his tights… 'cept for maybe galactic peace or a pet bunny rabbit or some other crap."

"Hey, don't you be underestimating Star. She might play the naïve foreign girl, but bottom line that girl cannot only be harsh, but she can be downright _vengeful_. I mean we're talking green-alien-fire and brimstone. 'Course that's only if you threaten what she cares about… though don't think she didn't lead Robin on a leash after he finally realized he had it bad for her. He was seriously pussy-whipped, and she was gutsy and clever enough to take advantage of it. Girl's got some serious ovaries."

Isaiah shakes he head, "I don't think it's that so much Bird Boy was pussy-whipped as much as he just has a thing for red-heads."

Cyborg shuts off his torch and morphs it back to a hand, then leans against the frame of the T-Car he was repairing, "Oh yeah? Where'd you get that little gem of knowledge? The dark side of some gossip shrine on the net?"

"Naw dude, its just that Batgirl's got red-hair, and didn't people say that Robin and Batgirl used to get a little friendly?"

Cyborg laughs and smiles, "Yeah… er… well no. Ugh, what I mean is, not the same Robin."

"Huh?" Isaiah responds, confused, "You mean that was proto-Nightwing Robin?"

"Tch, yeah dude. Where've you been living, under a rock? … In Morocco?"

"Shut up, Vic! Goddamn gossip shrine and it's unreliable news."

Vic gives a deep belly laugh before lighting up his torch arm and puts down his mask. He leans back down under the hood as sparks and random acts of exothermal violence resume.

Isaiah sits in his chair, bored.

…

"What about Beast Boy?"

Vic shrugs.

* * *

A green bird navigates its way expertly thru the air currents and up-drafts that swirl up above the City. 

Winding and spiraling up and above the buildings below, Beast Boy tucks his wings next to his body and dive-bombs down the dizzying heights. Zooming at high speeds thru sky-scrapers and business firms the feathery bullet soon pierces thru the steel jungle and breaks into the open air of suburbia.

Opening his wings Beast Boy catches hold of the still air around him and slows his decent. Flapping his wings after slowing considerably, the green bird darts from house to house, much faster than any normal bird.

The bird then found it's target in a modest two floor house, painted a bright, cheery yellow. The green avian flutters its way over to a tree in the house's yard and perches on a branch. A particular branch that hangs just outside of a bedroom window, that happens to be open.

The window leads to a bedroom with sandy colored carpet and a dark blue paint over the walls and ceiling.

Beast Boy had noted the similarity between it and the room she used to have at the Tower, but never said anything.

Yes, still asleep in the bed was the girl named Tara, formerly Terra, of the Teen Titans. Ever since she awoke from her stone sleep she'd had amnesia, and Beast Boy found out the hard way that she didn't _want_ to remember. Last Christmas, however, he became re-acquainted with the teenage schoolgirl after a school fire. The old spark they'd had re-ignited.

So as Tara slumbers underneath the sheets of her bed, the green bird starts singing at the top of his avian lungs.

Immediately Tara's hands clasp over her ears, "Ah! Man! What the hell is that? Did a Ashley Simpson just get hit by a bus?"

Despite the insult, Beast Boy continues his high-volume, cacophonous imitation of bird-song.

Tara jumps out of bed and marches over to the window, slamming it shut with gusto.

As Tara turns to return to her bed, a soft _thunk-thunk_ comes from the window. Pivoting her head, she sees the green bird flapping outside her window. With a sigh she opens the window again and steps back, allowing the green bird to fly into the room and morph quickly back into the humanoid changeling.

"Y'know," Tara starts, "I should push you right back out that window for waking me up so early."

"Uh, Tara baby…" Beast Boy smiles sheepishly, pointing his thumb at Tara's alarm clock that was currently blinking the red digits 1:35.

"Eep!" Tara cries at seeing the time, "Oh God! Oh God! I'm late! Late for school! Gotta get ready, Oh CRAP! The Chem test!"

Beast Boy starts to giggle to himself as Tara paces back and forth with her ranting. The blonde teen takes notice and spins on him, "Just what the hell is so damn amusing?!"

The changeling shrugs, "It's Sunday."

Tara's eyes widen and lets out a sigh of relief and agitation, "Ugh."

Beast Boy giggles some more.

Tara stands there for a moment, newly awakened brain trying to catch up with the rapid information being presented it. Soon, however, a sinister smile finds it's way across Tara's lips, "Hey, at least my name's not _Garfield_."

The giggling stops. Beast Boy gives Tara a deadpan look, "Most uncool, Dude-ette. That was _way_ below the belt."

Tara crosses the distance between the two of them, all giggles and smiles for the first time that day and wraps her arms around Beast Boy's neck, "Awww, did big bad Tawa make wittle Beast Boy cwy? Hehehe, C'mon Gar, you know I had to get you back, 'sides, you love it."

Their lips meet.

"Yeah, I guess. But that doesn't mean I can't get even." Gar grins, pointing to Tara's mirror on her door.

Tara's vision follows his finger, and she screams.

"YAAAAH!"

Gar rubs his green ear, "Ow."

"Oh God! Oh God!" Tara rants, back in her freak-out mode, "I'm so, so… GYAH!"

Tara's reflection shows the teen in her spaghetti strap top, small sophie shorts, no make up and blonde hair tossed and disheveled. She doesn't look 'gyah' at all, but she is a teenage girl, and aesthetics are important to her.

Returning from her freak-out mode, Tara looks up a Gar like deer in the headlights, "Um… Dah! I can't let you see me like this!" Tara says as she darts for the door.

Gar knows that if Tara gets out of that door he can't go chasing her, Tara's foster parents, though they loved him, wouldn't be too appreciative of him sneaking into Tara's room unannounced. Then he'd have to wait for Tara to freshen herself up and that could take forever! The green teen would hear none of it.

Tara grabs the doorknob and starts to pull the door open-

_Thud._

- but is stopped as a green tentacle stops her progress and shuts the door quietly.

Before Tara can react an arm encircles her torso from behind and the tentacle quickly morphs back into an arm. A green head nuzzles up against her neck, purring.

In the mirror Tara sees Beast Boy hugging her from behind. Instantly whatever residual grogginess that had been clogging her consciousness got shot as her senses kick-started to life. Back to her normal, confident self, Tara smiles.

"Gar."

"Mmhmm."

"Thanks for the wake-up call."

"Heh, no prob. 'Sides, a girl like you deserves to have such a _dashingly handsome_, extremely masculine alarm."

Tara shakes her head, "God, so lame."

"Hahaha!"

"Heheh!"

…

Tara turns, looking down slightly into Gar's green eyes. Before another word can be spoken she pounces the green boy back onto her bed.

"Uh Tara? What're you-"

Lips cut off his question and break his train of though.

-

The clock in the kitchen read 2:02 as Tara descended the steps from the upstairs, which lead right into the living room.

To the right of the bottom of the steps was the foyer, where the washing and drying machines were located. Also, at this particular moment, where Tara's 12 year old twin foster brothers were having a lightsaber duel.

"Mornin' boys." Tara called.

The boys paid her no attention.

"Marcus! The force is strong with you!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Clayton! HiiiYA! "

Tara just smiles and turns left, entering the living room. Sitting on the couch was a short, slightly chubby woman in her late thirties, reading a magazine simply entitled _Gossip_.

"Hi Mom." Tara says shortly as she bends down and give the woman a hug.

"About time you woke up, honey. I was near ready to go up there and wake you up myself." She says good naturedly, hugging the thin girl back.

After the hug Tara continues on her original path to the kitchen, which is at the opposite end of the house than the doorway. It was long and narrow, the east end of it leading to a screen door and the back porch, the west end leading to the garage.

"Where's Dad?" Tara calls into the living room from the kitchen as she opens up the fridge and grabs the strawberry jelly.

Her foster mother's voice carries from the other room, _"Work called! They had him come in for an emergency meeting of the Board, or something."_

As Tara stands on her tip toes to reach the peanut butter on top of the fridge, she calls back, "The Board? Dad's not on the Board. Since when does Dad go to Board meetings?"

_"Since the outcome of his new project directly effects if he gets that promotion he's been gunning for."_

"Really?" Tara says enthusiastically, "Dad's been working so hard on that thing, he'll get the promotion for sure!"

_"You and I know that, but you know him. 'We don't know anything for sure.' Baloney."_

Tara lays out four pieces of bread and opens up the peanut butter jar… and pauses.

She stands there in the kitchen, trying to figure out what she's missing.

"Here ya go, Sissie." Comes a small voice.

Tara looks down to see her four year old foster sister holding a butter knife in her direction. Bending her knees Tara takes the knife from the girl and smiles, "Thank you, Megan! So nice! Where did you come from, huh?"

Megan points behind her, "I was on the porch, playing with Patches."

Tara looks back over the little girls head and sees the fat calico cat staring at her with what Tara swears is evil in it's eyes.

Ignoring her feline enemy Tara smiles back down at Megan, "Hey, how about after I eat breakfast I braid your hair?"

Megan's eyes light up with glee, "OK!"

"Hehe, good. You run along now, but don't go far cause I'll be done eating in a minute.

"OK!" she reassures her sister. Sprinting into the living room she goes to tell her mother about it.

As Tara stands and dips the knife into the peanut butter, her lips curve wickedly upwards and she glares Patches down.

Patches gives the slightest of hisses before turning and walking away.

Tara: 1, Patches: 0

A few minutes later after Tara finishes her breakfast and begins braiding her sisters hair, the doorbell rings.

Before Tara can so much as say 'I'll get it' her two brothers, still dueling in the foyer, bound to the door and swing it open.

The calm Titan is surprised be met with plastic lightsabers pointing at his jugular.

"Who goes there!!" Clayton yells at the changeling, by now totally used to having the Titan visit his house. The Twins had made quite a big deal at their elementary school about their sister going out with a superhero. In their classmates eyes this made them superheroes by proxy, and the duo were all to happy to accept the praise.

Thinking quickly, Beast Boy throws his hands up to the sky, "Whoa! It's me guys. Beast Boy!"

Marcus shouts over his red glowing weapon, "What is your purpose here, rebel scum?" Pausing for a moment, Marcus takes a couple sniffs of the air before continuing, "And why do you smell like Tara's room?"

Beast Boy's ears droop. Tara blushes furiously and wishes she didn't wear such pungent perfume. Neighbors freeze in their day to day and look on with trepidation. Cars brake in the streak. Patches hides underneath a bush. Tara's mother lowers the magazine and, from her seat, glares at both teenagers simultaneously with a look that could catch ice on fire.

Clayton elbows Marcus in the side, "Oomph. What was that for?"

Clayton glowers at his twin.

Marcus's face lights up with realization, "Oh yeah, I mean. The force has left an impression of Tara's room on you!"

Clayton nods with a big smile.

Beast Boy notices how interesting his boots have become suddenly.

Tara becomes intensely enthralled in braiding her sisters hair.

Neighbors collectively pantomime, _oh shit_.

Patches sinks back further into the bush, "Mrow?"

A vein in Tara's mother's head dances violently.

Across the room Tara shoots her boyfriend a glance that says _Do something!_

The changeling's responding glance screams _Like what?_

The mother stands and roars loud enough for the neighborhood to hear, "**INSIDE! NOW!**"

Beast Boy quickly complies, shutting the door behind him.

As the dust that was stirred up by the roar settles down, the mother's angry appearance evanesces and is replaced by a look of motherly love, "Oh my dear boy, come here!"

"Huh?-GAH!" Beast Boy's twin exclamations came after first not being killed by the large woman and secondly being embraced in a hug that could rival Starfire.

"Uhhh, Mom, you're not mad?" Tara asks meekly.

"Oh of course not dear. The whole 'never leave the teenagers alone together' is your father's rule. I could really care less."

"Then why the whole charade?"

"It'll settle the neighbors. If they just saw him walk in here after Marcus blew his mouth, they'd think something was up and ask your Father, and we can't have that happening now can we?"

Tara scratches the back of her blonde head, not fully comprehending the fact that she was not about to be destroyed, "No, I guess not."

Meanwhile, Beast Boy's face was turning from green to blue from the continuous hug.

Clayton pokes the changeling with his lightsaber, "I think he's gonna die from asfixotation."

Marcus leans in, "Cool!"

Noticing her sons ramblings, the mother catches her self and lets the shape shifter go, "Oh, so sorry dear!"

Betwixt large gulps of air Beast Boy says, "No… Problem… Mrs. … Stanton."

Megan, who had been obliviously reading a Sailor Moon manga the whole time, stands at the sound of the voice and looks towards the foyer. Spotting Beast Boy her eyes grow wide as saucers and sparkle with childish infatuation, "It's Beast Boy!" she squees in admiration. Then after realizing he is looking, no, smiling right at her, the look of wonderment is washed away as fifty percent of the blood in her body rushes up to her face.

Beast Boy smiles and waves at the little girl, "Hiii Megaan."

"HIBEASTBOY!" she screams before running out of the room, embarrassed.

Free from her braiding duties, Tara nearly skips over to their green visitor, "Well, if you feel that way mother, I'm gonna go show BB my room."

Grabbing his hand, she practically drags the changeling up the stairwell.

Mrs. Stanton puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head, laughing.

…

She stops and stairs up the stairwell.

…

"Tara! Leave your door open!"

…

_"dammit."_

* * *

Sitting in a plush chair a few sizes larger than herself, a petite woman with dark hair and a rich brown skin tone sits talking into a phone. 

"No. No. Yes. I hardly think it matters that they're heroes, Mr. Conrad. They are constantly causing copious collateral damage, costing thousands of dollars to repair. Its not unheard of for the collateral damage to be more costly than if the criminals were to enact their crimes un-disturbed.

She sits as the voice on the other end of the squawks. She pretends to listen as she looks down at her business suit. Squinting, she picks off a few stray pieces of lint as the voice on the other end of the line gets louder and angry.

"Of course I'm paying attention! Listen, I'd love to keep this up all day, really I would. But I have urgent matters that need attending to."

The squawking voice sounds angry.

"Ya huh, buh bye now."

_Click_.

"Ugh, reporters…" the woman, somewhere in her mid-thirties, mumbles as she rubs her temples vigorously and sinks back into the large chair. Opening her eyes the petite woman gazes over her desk, also a size or two too large for her small frame, which is filled with small stacks of papers. Bills, checks, memos and other random political etcetera clutters up the desk. Leaning forward the woman stretches out her arm, reaching for something at the front of her desk.

…

Sighing with disgust as her fully stretched arm comes up short, she sits up on her knees and stretches farther forward, finally snatching the object and bringing it up to her face.

It was a paper weight with a plaque that read _Mayor Morgahn Kumari._

Her eyes inspect the sign for a few, wandering moments.

"Just what the hell did I get myself into, running for office in this town?"

_BLAM!_

As if reinforcing the question an abrupt explosion followed by an earthquake level tremor ran itself through her office and the entire building.

Falling back and gripping her seat in an attempt to not fall face first into the floor the Mayor watches as all the papers on her desk fly off and litter the floor. Book shelves overturn and pictures on the walls fall down and shatter noisily.

After a moment, the rumbling subsides and everything stops shaking. However the violence is replaced with shrieks and screams coming from the ground floor.

The Mayor sits there for a moment, shell shocked and staring off into space as if day dreaming.

…

Her brow furrows hard, her mouth frowns and her eyes set ablaze. Jumping out of the chair, marching over the desk and hoping down onto the floor the Mayor storms out of her office for the stairwell, growling.

-

"Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod-"

"Will you kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP?!" Charlie roars at the young secretary.

Standing behind him in the fresh hole in the wall is his truck with a crunched front end and shredded grill and bumper. A hazy cloud of dust lingers all around the room from the violent entrance that had shook the building down to it's foundations.

"Ohmigod! Ohmigod!"

Pointing an uzi at the secretary's face, Charlie growls, "You really want to shut the hell up."

The secretary's lips stayed put.

Since the crash entrance nearly all of the workers about City Hall had crawled out of the woodwork and were now staring at the massive form of Charlie, bullet proof vest laced with grenades. Uzi in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other, a few other firearms strapped to his belt and back. His face stonily gazes around at his captives, in an even yet booming voice he commands, "Alright, everybody stays calm and nobody gets hurt. This is a hostage situation and as of right now, you are all my personal servants. I'm the king, and what I want I get. Right now I want two things: first off I want every man and woman able to lift mildly heavy objects to go to the back of my truck, there you'll find various devices that I'll instruct you on what to do with later. Secondly, I want the May-"

Cutting the massive crook off the door leading to the stairwell kicks open, and a 4'11'' woman marches out into the lobby. Seething she screams, "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Charlie's head turns to the woman, and pivots so that his uzi is right in the woman's face.

"You're going to help save a life today, that's what's going on." his whispers with feeling.

Never flinching, Mayor Kumari glares at the uzi before glowering up at the massive man, "You're lucky you've got guns or you'd have ninety-nine pounds of estrogenical Indian fury walking up and down your ass."

Unnoticed by anyone a balding man in thick glasses reaches underneath the secretary's abandoned desk and stealthily presses a small, red button with a black 'T' emblazoned on it.

Charlie's face remains deadpan, "You don't go out of my sight. After these kind folks set up the traps, you and I will be retiring to your office until my demands are met."

Mayor Kumari continues to glower up at her captor as her colleagues cower in fear. Her eyes squint down to thin, dangerous slits, "Who are you?"

* * *

"His name is Charlie Dascomb." Robin addresses the assembled Titans , "Age:32 Height: 6'4'' Weight: 280 lbs, Former Occupation: freelance painter, working mainly in watercolor. He was married to one Renee Dascomb in '98, and they had one child, Rachel Dascomb. Renee was a supervisor at a law firm and was the main source of income for the family, however she died in a car wreck three years ago. When his former occupation couldn't support himself and his daughter, Charles was forced to give up his painting and took up a construction job; however they had to move out of their expensive home and moved into an apartment in the South End. Early last year his daughter was diagnosed with pilocytic astrocytomas, a cancerous brain tumor that, while usually benign, was concluded to be malignant, and has been slowly killing her over the past year. However, last month a surgeon approached him with an experimental surgery that could save his daughter's life, allowing her to make an unheard of full recovery. He gladly agreed, except that he didn't have the money from his construction job. That's where the information cuts off." 

"So the heist this morning was to pay for his little girl's brain surgery?" Cyborg asks in a low voice.

"We can't look at it that way, he broke the law and we have to bring him in." Robin answers firmly.

All the Titans, save Beast Boy who was absent from the Tower, sat or stood around the Main Room with grim looks on their faces.

"Titans, I know this makes things seem difficult, but our job is no different. We have to bring Charles Dascomb to justice. He is a thief, he is a criminal, he is-"

Robin is cut off as the Main Computer and all the individual Titans' crime alarms go off.

Pouncing on the computer Robin presses a few keys and a small window opens that shows a security camera of City Hall as a truck rams thru the side of the wall.

Robin grits his teeth as the footage shows Charlie holding the Mayor at gunpoint, "-holding City Hall hostage!"

The Titans stand, not happy with the situation but ready to move.

"Titans, GO!"


	5. Baby Doll, Omega

A bald girl lays in a hospital bed, tubes and wires of various sorts plugged into her arms. Her eyes are closed as she sleeps thru the day, like she does most days now.

Overhead there is a TV that is on, but the red letters spelling 'mute' across the screen explain the lack of noise. The curtains are closed over the window in a vain attempt at keeping out the harsh sunlight. The tables near her are filled with flowers and cards and pictures… almost entirely of and from her father, who has not yet come to visit her today.

However, as the door opens slowly to her hospital room its not a doctor, not a nurse, a visitor…

…but not her father.

A slightly large woman with long blond hair and round glasses walks into the room and, seeing the girl lying there, burst into tears that she had been holding back the entire drive up-state.

The woman sits down by the side of her sleeping niece's bed and does two things.

Cry and stare. Stare and cry. It was all she can do.

Her brother, Charlie, called her yesterday and asked her if she would come up and visit Rachel for the day. It seemed odd, but the sound in his voice convinced her. He had said he didn't want her to be alone, and that he couldn't be there that day.

Little did the woman know until she looked up from her crying to the muted TV news, and saw with horrified eyes that it was because he was holding the Mayor at gunpoint.

…

_What boundaries would you break? Who would you kill? How long and how hard and how violently would you fight?_

**_To save your daughter's life? To keep a promise? To save your own sanity, your soul?_**

_Chapter Five: Baby-doll, Omega  
_

The Police Station is in a violent frenzy. Officers scramble for their firearms and sprint to the vehicles, speeding off to City Hall like bats straight out of the Pit, their sirens deafening in their zeal. Voices yell and bellow in a prime example of mass hysteria. And as the police jump into action to go save their City Hall one thing is on their minds, though with more or less vulgarity behind it-

How could this happen?

Inside an office a towering, husky black man is screaming into a phone, "-No, No excuse! How in Sweet Mother Mary's perfect tits did this happen?!"

Officers in their mad dash to their vehicles slow and cringe noticeably as they run by the man's office.

The indistinguishable voice from the other end of the line speaks meekly. The response makes the large man's eyes bulge to the point of ocular explosion. He bellows back into the phone, "I don't care if he drove a freakin' bus full of nuns off the road and into the building! All I care about it catching this punk!"

The voice squawks momentarily.

"NO! We can't wait for the Titans to do everything! 'Sides, how do we know they ain't too busy having some pot-smokin' orgy, or what ever the hell teenagers do these days, up in that Tower of theirs? Get there, get it blocked off, and get that madman in jail, NOW!"

The large man slams down the phone with impressive force. He seethes for a moment before a calm voice speaks up from behind him.

"It's not like you to rip on the Titans like that, Commissioner. I mean, I'm the head of the special unit they usually upstage in a big way, and even I admit that I like the kids."

The large man turns towards the doorway of his office, in which stands a man of medium height and a not-overly muscular build. His blonde hair was cut short, almost buzzed, and his face was cleanly shaven. His blue eyes had an unmistakable intensity about them, even now as he casually spoke with his superior. He was dressed in a dress shirt, tie, blazer and black slacks. Everything about him spoke of clean cut, by the book, officer of the law.

"Don't give me shit, Jon." The Commissioner growls to his subordinate, "Y'know I like those kids and I appreciate what they do for this City, I just don't like the fact that they're _kids_ and that every officer thinks they can take it easy just because of some pimple faced metas livin' in a big capital T."

Jon raises an eyebrow in a modest fashion, "_Every_ officer, Commissioner? I think you may be exaggerating."

"Barely." The large man grumbles, falling down into his chair and rubbing a hand over his bald head, "Then there's people like you who dot every t and cross every i. I mean I'm surprised you don't stop people for J-walking."

"The law is the law sir, and I actually did give a man a warning for J-walking last Tuesday."

The Commissioner laughs so hard he shakes.

"I'm not sure I understand whats funny, Commissioner."

"Yea," the large man said, coming off his laughing fit, "You wouldn't, and that's why it's funny."

Brow furrowing slightly in confusion, Jon quickly shakes it off and speaks again, "In any case Commissioner, I came here to ask if you'd like me and my team to suit up for this particular crisis."

The Commissioner suddenly turns very serious, "We sure as hell better not need you and your team for this… but if this thing isn't resolved in thirty minutes I want you and your storm troopers to dress up and head for it."

"Sir, please!" Jon says in a slightly raised voice, "I have enough trouble keeping that awful nickname out of the mouths of my own team."

The Commissioner sighs, "Goddammit, Aldur, fine. I want you and the Special Threat Squad to get up there and kickass after half a-goddamn-hour!"

Standing up straight, he nods, "Yes, sir." Turns, and heads for the door.

* * *

People crowd and murmur around the City Hall, crowding in on the police line so much that a few extra officers have to be added to handle the growing mass of worried, confused, and down right interested citizens. And the crowd is only growing. People walk up and ask in hushed and amazed voice about what is happening. Gasps of awe and terror and intrigue bounce in and out of ears and dance thru the air, causing the crowd to continue to grow in size. Eventually the size of the crowd is so large that it spills into the street, cutting off traffic. This only served to add further fuel to the fanatical fire.

High above the commotion centered on spectating the crisis a pair of green wings flap methodically as a similiarly colored pigeon makes its fifth aerial lap around the encircled City Hall.

As the emerald avian descends from his circuit the edges of his shape blur and become ambiguous. As he lands on the top of a streetlight his form has shifted entirely into the humanoid body of Beast Boy. Flipping the top of his communicator open he speaks, "Beast Boy here, and by the looks of it he's acting alone, however he's wrangled some of the hostages to set booby traps."

Robin's grizzly voice rumbles over the device, _"Can you tell where, how many and the nature of said traps?"_

Beast Boy's face scrunches in momentary concentration, "Uh, everywhere, lots and likely to go 'boom'?"

This time the dull monotone of Raven pierces thru the static, _"Sterling observation as always Beast Boy."_

"While that was one big word too many, I still don't appreciate you laying smack on me."

Cyborg's voice could be heard laughing deeply across the airwaves, while Raven's line remained painfully silent.

"What? What are you goin' on about, Cy?"

"_HAH! Man, BB! The crap you don't even realize you say! That's not even real slang BB! How about it Raven? You know before you said that you were thinkin' in your head 'Man, I am SO gonna lay the smack down on B!' HAH!"_

"…"

"_Titans, keep focused. I know that one guy busting into the City Hall and holding the City hostage isn't exactly an earth shattering event, but we still need to solve it. Beast Boy, I want you to infiltrate the City Hall and find Mayor Kumari, tag onto her and don't let any serious injury happen to her. Keep incognito as long as you can."_

"You got it, Robin. Beast Boy out."

Pocketing his communicator, the humanoid's body wrenches into an impossible position, shudders violently for half a blink, and in a swirl of green flesh morphs into a green mosquito. The insect buzzes towards the gaping hole in the side of City Hall.

* * *

They all stand in the Mayor's disheveled office.

Stand is not actually the best word to describe it, they all 'are' in the Mayor's disheveled office.

Most, nearly all of the hostages (being everyone in the building that day) are bound hand and foot, gagged by the mouth. Mayor Kumari sits behind her desk in her chair as she usually would, the key difference being that her small frame is tied to the seat.

Charlie himself paces back and forth across the room, in front of the desk. The hostages, who are all variants of sobbing or trembling, watch the massive man move to and fro. The guns and triggers and grenades bouncing and clanking metallicallly with each thundering, angry step.

"This won't work you know."

Charlie chooses to ignore the Mayor's comment.

"What kind of half-assed terrorist are you? You leave some of the hostages in the lobby and you don't bother to gag me? You really don't know what you're doing do you?"

Despite his energetic lumberings, Charlie replies with a calm, even tone to his deep, gravely voice, "I'm not a terrorist."

Kumari's lips furrow into a frown of disgust. Though not so much at the comment as the way it was said, "Could've fooled me, Ugly. Driving a truck full of explosives and weaponry into the City Hall seems an awful lot like terrorist actions to me."

Charlie's eyes never even turn to the small woman as he again speaks calmly, "I imagine if I was a terrorist whenever I drove into here it would've blown up."

"OH! My mistake! You see I was confused about the whole holding us all hostage and leaving a few tied up downstairs to be used as meat-shield living-bombs for whenever the Titans arrive thing! Of course you're not a terrorist! They have the balls to blow themselves up! Saves us the trouble!

"You're not going to make me angry ma'am."

"You don't know me very well, Ugly."

"And you don't know me. If I was worried about you annoying me I would've gagged you like the rest."

"And why didn't you?"

For the first time since he had holed them all up in the Mayor's office Charlie turns and stares directly into the Mayor's eyes, "Because I need you to understand the reason I'm doing this."

For just a moment the stern, smug look and the woman's face dissipates and is replaced with a confused frown. It reverts just as quickly, "The motivations of criminals are of no interest to me."

An icy silence looms over the room for a few long minutes as the massive, armed to the teeth Charlie stares down the petite woman, bound to her chair several sizes to large for her.

"Are you married, Mayor Kumari?"

"Once. It was insufferable. And if you're proposing you can take whatever ring you've got and shove sideways up you're a-"

"Alright then, Kumari. Tell me, do you have any kids?"

* * *

Jon Aldur walks at a brisk pace down an empty hallway. His eyebrows furrow deep enough that they almost meet betwixt his eyes. His mouth bends firmly downwards and well-worn creases make themselves present on his angular face.

The scowl is nothing new; it's a nearly omnipresent feature on Jon Aldur's face. Just like the nearly buzzed hair cut, just like the suit and tie (always perfectly cleaned and pressed.) Just like the impressive muscles hidden underneath the suit, but he didn't need to let them be seen for their presence to be known. Everything about the way the man walks suggests power, and the rest of the police force knew all too well that power, particularly the Special Threat Squad of which he was the Captain.

As he marches down the empty hallway he glances conservatively at his watch. "Twenty minutes," he whispers under his breath. Looking back up he turns and goes down a short flight of stares that leads to metal double doors, thick and windowless.

There are no handles on these doors, but a thin slit in the wall outlined by metal is visible. Whipping out a key card Jon slides it in and out of the wall in a very fluid, practiced fashion.

With an optimistic _beep_ from somewhere overhead the doors slide open and allow Jon Aldur to enter the room before closing the door behind him.

Looking up around the secret locker room he spies a tall, slightly thin Asian man sitting lackadaisically on a bench. Pushing up a pair of glasses, the man smirks up at Aldur, "So, whats the news Cap'n? Knowing you you probably begged the Commish to let us go."

Although many have considered it impossible, Jon Aldur's brow furrows deeper, "You know I don't like that nickname, Sergeant Nagano."

Cutting off his superior the man leans forward with a flippant grin, "And you know we don't like it when you pull off that Officer Surname crap! Seriously Jon, we've all been on this Squad for six straight months together, some of us have been on it for years, so loose the formality. And for God'ssakes call me Sam."

Before Aldur can open his mouth in retort, a deep voice sounds out to his left, "Y'know we all admire and respect your tenacity, Jon, but Sam's right, a little familiarity always helps."

"Thank you, Eddie!" Sam calls.

Jon turns and sees a man exiting the shower who is a least 6'9", covered all over with rippling muscles, dark skin stretched taught over them, smiling a big, if not slightly oblivious, smile.

"Sergeant Graves-"

"_Ahem!"_

Jon's eyes shift to Sam, "…Edwin, please…. Put on some clothes."

"Uh? OH! Yeah, right!"

Suddenly a fourth voice enters the conversation, "So, Cap'n Jonny, whats the deal? Are we suit'n up or not."

The three men turn to face a woman, average height and size, however with clearly defined muscular build and an intense look in her eyes.

Eddie blushes and attempts to hide his nude massive self behind his open locker door, failing miserably. Sam laughs at the spectacle. Jon rubs his forehead as if trying to alleviate some pressure.

The woman smiles, "Aww, Eddie I'm sorry. Did I embarrass you?"

The hulk of a man nods like a small boy.

"Here, if I turn around while you dress will that make it better?"

"Uh, yeah. Th-that'd be nice."

With a small giggle she turns herself around while Eddie hurriedly pulls out his clothes and begins to dress himself, stumbling much of the time.

Sam's laughs are full blown now, and he has to force out the words, "Oh Gawd! Hah! The giant Eddie Graves' one weakness, women! I love it! Hahah! C'mon Mary, turn around and tease him some more! You know you want to!"

"Some of us aren't quite as heartless as you, Sam."

A vein pulses in Jon's forehead.

"Well excuse me for enjoying irony! And since when do you have a heart, Mary?"

Jon's teeth clench together.

"I've always had a heart, you'd've seen it by now if you'd ever stop being an ass."

Eyebrows twitch uncontrollably on the Captain's forehead.

Pulling on his pants in a hurry, Eddie gets his leg caught, wobbles for a moment, and-

_CRASH!_

"…Uh, I broke another bench."

After a moment of silence, Sam's laughter fills the locker room. Mary starts giggle as even Eddie begins chuckling.

Meanwhile, Jon's face has turned an unhealthy shade of red, "ENOUGH!"

White silence hangs heavy.

…

Jon begins to take deep breaths, moving his shoulders around and rolling his neck. After a few moments his face changes back to it's usual hue. He speaks, "The Commissioner does not expect to need us for the hostage situation at City Hall, despite having deployed the near entirety of the rest of the force for the crisis. He has, however, given the order that if the situation has not been resolved in what is now eighteen minutes and thirty-four seconds then we should deploy. So get your squads and meet me in the garage in fifteen minutes."

Sam pipes up, "Fifteen minutes, are you nuts? Even if we had our squads assembled already it'd take at least twenty minutes to get half our equipment ready!"

Turning to leave, Jon speaks over his shoulder, "Then I suggest you quit complaining and start getting ready, because it's now down to seventeen minutes and forty-eight seconds."

Jon steps out of the locker room and the doors clang behind him.

"That guy seriously needs to get laid." Sam says, casting a look Mary's way.

Catching the look her face contorts in disgust, "Ew. No way. I mean, I like myself a good time with a cute guy, but Hell no!"

Walking over to a large red button on the wall, Eddie grumbles, "Here we go again."

His massive palm slams onto the button and sirens blare overhead.

* * *

A green flea, though so small the color was indistinguishable, hops deftly and unnoticed onto Mayor Kumari's shoulder. This goes unnoticed by Charlie, the Mayor, and everyone in the room.

She squints at his question, "No. No children. It was an arranged marriage that I was too young and inexperienced to get myself out of. I soon learned how."

Charlie stares at her with a sad intensity to his eyes, "You won't understand as well as I'd hoped then, what I'm trying to do here. What I'm trying to preserve. What I'm trying to save."

"Save? Heh, that's funny. Seems to me like you're only setting people up for death and destruction." She spits, "If this is your idea of saving something then you're either insane or have an extremely warped view of the world."

Charlie's face sags, his posture deflates, and suddenly he seems very tired and very old, "Maybe it is warped, but I sure as hell ain't crazy. Not yet any way, maybe getting there."

"What are you babbling about?"

Charlie ignores her statement and instead jumps forward, suddenly having his old vigor and power back, plants his hands on her desk and stares her straight in the eye, is grenades and firearms swaying with momentum, "What boundaries would you break? Who would you kill? How long and how hard and how violently would you fight?"

"Now I'm sure you're crazy!" Kumari says, pulling back from his massive face.

He continues on, undaunted, "What would you do to escape from Hell? Where would you go to reclaim the already broken shreds of your world? To save your daughter's life? To keep a promise? To save your own sanity, your very soul?"

"After your ass gets busted you should have no problem pulling the insanity plea." Kumari deadpans.

"If I'm insane its because this world has made me this way!" Charlie roars with such ferocity that the Mayor is, for a few moments at least, silent like the rest of the hostages.

"Let me tell you a little story before they ask for my demands." Charlie begins, "A man grows up and has everything he needs. Good parents, a nice home, a great childhood. He goes to college and learns about what he loves, he perfects his art and has his family behind him all the way. Although it's hard he even makes a little money off of his endeavors. He meets the woman of his dreams, and they fall madly in love. They graduate, get married, buy a house, and start a family. Two dogs and a beautiful daughter. Oh God, the daughter, you've never seen such a happy smile, such an energetic body, such a quick mind! They're on top of the world and nothing can touch them! But then, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, when the Father is out on a trip trying to sell his art to a major company, Mommy's car gets T-boned by a semi-truck on the way home from work. She bleeds to death, staring at her own guts as they spill out onto the floorboard. The police find her and go to the house to tell the husband… Oh, but he isn't going to be back until tomorrow night, but the little girl is home alright. One policeman. That's all they spared to stay with her until he could get home. Every night afterwards she would beg him to not leave her alone. Not again, like when Mommy died. And he wouldn't, because he couldn't stand to hear her cry."

Charlie pauses for a moment to catch his breath, his eyes turning red as water collects near the edges, "But the little girl isn't the same, never the same. Always sad, always crying for her mom. She sinks into despair and after a while she won't even get out of bed any more. The Father thinks it's just the sadness, but after a while he takes her to the doctor just in case. Turns out it's brain cancer, and they might be able to save her, but oh wait, _YOU HAVE TO BE A FUCKING MILLIONARE TO PAY FOR IT! " _The gagged wince and cry with new fear as his voice rises and his motions intensify with a blinding fury,_ "Insurance doesn't cover it, hell no! Insurance doesn't give a damn whether you live or die, as long as you always pay the bills, and whenever it comes time for them to do their job they skip out with your money!!_ _Heheh! Hehehe_…heh. So now here is our man. Lost. Swimming in the shadows. A ripple on the face of reality. A twist in fate and then a sickening descent down the praeternatural spiral of the ethereal. And a man his prime looks up and finds himself in the Pit, damned by actions outside of his control. Angry and scared, he glances around, searching for hope… but he will find none in the world as it is. In order to save himself and those he loves he has to rise back from that Pit as a demon, to scour the world who damned his family simply on a whim. To escape the Devil he has to become the Devil."

Charlie raises his sawed-off shotgun and places the end of the barrel on Kumari's forehead, "And so now you find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun, with the Devil's finger on the trigger, asking you to help save a little girl. What do you say, Miss Mayor? What do you say?"

Kumari glowers at him from across the firearm, "You may think you are, but you are not the Devil. You're just a criminal, and I don't negotiate with criminals, I help make sure they stay in jail."

Now Charlie's face contorts, a vein bulges and helps to outline the creases in his scowling face, a single tears drops down his cheek as his voice breaks, "How can you say that?! How can you be so goddamn inhuman?_HOW CAN YOU SENTENCE MY LITTLE GIRL TO DEATH?!!_"

Unnoticed, the green flea on Mayor Kumari's collar takes a defensive posture and begins to shudder before-

"Charles Dascomb! We know you're in there. We want to talk before this blows up."

The flea calms down, the eyes of the bound and gagged hostages lit up, Charlie frowns and exhales while Kumari merely raises a brow.

Because it's not the sound of some police negotiator coming over that P.A.

It's the voice of Robin.

A thick silence hangs for a moment before Charlie grins, "You may not be willing to save my daughter's life, but I'm betting there's someone out there who will."

Not pausing to bother with the formalities of untying the Mayor, Charlie merely grabs the top of her chair and drags it easily over to the nearest window, spinning the chair so that the Mayor's face is visible, with the point of the shotgun next to it.

"ALRIGHT! HERE'S HOW IT GOES DOWN!" Charlie bellows down at the Titans, the police, and the assembled crowd, "I GET WHAT I WANT AND YOUR MAYOR AND ALL THE PEOPLE IN THIS BUILDING DON'T DIE! YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN'T TRY ANYTHING FUNNY BECAUSE IF YOU MAKE ONE WRONG MOVE IN THAT LOBBY THEN THE PEOPLE TIED UP DOWN THERE GO SKY HIGH!"

Robin's only response is to nod blindly in Kid Flash's direction.

"You got it." the teen's sentence seems to finish after his body has already blurred away.

_VOOSH!_

One blink…

One and a hal-

_VOOSH!_

Kid Flash suddenly reappears, all the persons in the lobby that had been tied to or near explosive traps were now out in the crowd.

"You can't stop us." Robin's electronically magnified voice calls out, "Surrender yourself before more than _one_ of us enters the fray."

Charlie's eyes flare, "NO! YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME? MY DAUGHTER'S LIFE IS AT STAKE! IF SHE DIES THE MAYOR DIES, GOT IT?"

"We don't negotiate with criminals." Robin speaks evenly over the P.A. before giving a deft nod towards Jericho.

Charlie doesn't really mean to look where the Boy Wonder nods, its not even a conscious movement as his eyes flit towards the teen before his mind can even register whats happening.

_FL-FLASH!_

Charlie blinks for a second as his vision spins.

"Wha- what the hell?"

He feels detached from reality, a sick vertigo takes to his stomach as his head feels unbalanced, as if one ear were heavier than the other.

That's when he realizes he has put down his weapon and is untying the Mayor. His eyes widen and a yell builds up in his throat, but soon his memory races back to the speedboat earlier that morning.

How there had been a blinding flash of green and then his cohort had pulled the gun on his boss. Charlie remembers what he'd screamed:

"_I-I CAN'T CONT-TROL MYSELF!"_ the words echoed with vicious potency as Charlie's massive hands finished releasing the Mayor, who smiles up exasperatedly, "Thanks, Jericho."

Charlie lets out a miserable grunt as Jericho nods his head. Grim realization dawns upon the vigilante, he's been possessed.

And just like that, in the twinkling of an eye, it was done.

His last stand was over.

He'd failed.

His daughter….

A few moments later he is down in the street. Against Jericho's control, a single tear skims quickly down Charlie's cheek as Hell closes around him in a hail of cheering bystanders, colorfully costumed adolescents, and cruelly shining pair handcuffs.

-

After rematerializing back into his own body Jericho shuffles over to Raven, humbly accepting pats on the back from the public, his teammates, and even a few cops.

Once passing them all by he gets to Raven and can only look down and grin at her with a pair of tired, but amused, eyes.

"Enjoying your first day back?" her dark eyes shine with sarcasm and maybe a little anticipation.

Jericho retorts with lips as the sun nears the western horizon.

* * *

"Th-thank you so-oo-o much!" the woman's weight shudders as she sobs to the profoundly petite Indian woman.

"I told you to not think a second thing about it," Mayor Kumari starts, rubbing the woman's back gently. The two look up into the window of Rachel Dascomb's room. How she lies sleeping, but somehow a little more peaceful.

"You should go stay by her side." Kumari whispers gently.

With a brave nod the woman stands up and moves into her niece's hospital room.

Mayor Kumari rises from her seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the window where she stops and looks for a few silent moments. The hospital air hangs heavy with the weight of the ill. Kumari broods to herself as she observes the girl.

"Is this the girl?"

Kumari only nods to the sudden voice, not even pausing in thought to register it's owner's abrupt being.

Robin moves beside her, eyemask peering thru the window, "I can see why he fought."

"It doesn't excuse his actions."

"No. No it doesn't… but sometimes whenever everyday people suddenly find themselves cornered they lash out without forethought. That doesn't make it any less illegal, just more understandable."

Kumari can only nod, rubbing a spot on her arms still sore from the ropes.

"So, what will happen to her?" Robin asks evenly.

A slight smirk makes it's way onto the Mayor's lips, "An anonymous philanthropist just donated enough money for the corrective surgery."

Robin's head swivels down to look at her, "You?"

Her smirk grows, "The Kumari family has a… wealthy ancestry."

"Why not take credit for it? It'd certainly make you look favorable in the public eye, gain you a few votes in the next re-election."

Kumari's smile slowly dissipates as she takes a deep breath, "It's something that my Dad told me. His dad told him. A family maxim of sorts." The woman turns her small self around and leans against the window, staring hard into the wall in front of her. Robin notices old age creeping onto the woman's face a decade or two early. "They said that charity should be done for the sake of charity. The weak, poor and downtrodden should be helped because they need help, not because one wants to bolster their own image."

Robin smiles, "Sounds like you've got some wise ancestors."

"Hm." Kumari gives a small laugh, "Nice of you to say." With that she shoves off the window and makes her way down the hallway to the elevator. She stops and spins slowly, "Don't think that just because of that you'll catch a break when this month's collateral damage costs are present-"

But the hallway is empty.

With a shake of her head and a contented sigh, she makes for the elevator and for home.

"It's been a long day." she sighs, and it lingers.

* * *

A young man cradles his burnt hand to his chest. An intense heat still emanating from it as the smaller burns sting and prickle all over his body. All a reminder of the morning's church service. Of his failed robbery.

But none of his injuries sting as bad as the fact that he and his two younger sisters are still stuck here in this one-room shack in the South End. The fact that his parent's left years ago and he hadn't eaten anything that wasn't either stolen or dragged out of a dumpster in a month haunted him more still. The fact that he was sixteen and had to give up an education to work a dirty, dirty job so his little sisters could go to school with the help of government loans… and even then they were still piling up dept from that and so much more.

The fact that he had to stay up at night while his sisters slept, eyes on the door and rifle in hand, to make sure no one comes in haunts him presently as the sun sets on Jump City.

The young man sits in his chair, expelling the thoughts, and watching the door as his sisters snore softly on the ground at his feet.

His hand burns into the night.


End file.
